Ineffable
by Thine Own Self
Summary: Adj. Too great to be expressed in words. It's just something they know in their heart. A series of oneshots exploring the possible romantic relationships of some unusual pairings as well as the most popular ships in this incredible fandom. Warnings and ratings vary by chapter.
1. Run to Me- Teazer & Misto

**A/N- Requested by AlicePonineTeazer.**

Tugger's voice rang out across the junkyard, and the older cats stilled, indulgent smiles on their faces as the young toms and queens lined up, facing one another, at opposite ends of the clearing. The fading sunlight refracted off the scrap- illuminating everyone in the gentle glow of a spring evening.

"We all know the game already- but Munk and his obsession with the rules requires that I explain for the thousandth time." Tugger rolled his golden eyes, giving a good natured smile to the silver tabby sitting atop the TSE1 with Demeter.

"At the start of each round, I will call out 'You're everything I hoped you'd be: you're…fill in the blank.' For the first round the queens will pick a tom who they think has that quality. Next round the toms choose. Each round, if someone isn't picked they're out. Last two standing- a tom and a queen- win."

"I wouldn't have to insist if you just-" Munk was cut off as Tugger raised his voice.

"Yeah ok- let's start!"

Teazer shifted her weight, paw on hip. They'd all been playing the odd little game since they were kittens; but suddenly it felt intimate. Each of them was on the cusp of adulthood- something always meant more now than it ever had before. Especially if it involved the toms. She glanced up to the line across the clearing; eight toms, single file.

Addie with his wide grin, Jerrie with that confident tilt of his head, Tumble's shoulders taunt with excitement. Teazer watched as Pounce looked each queen up and down before turning to laugh at Plato's stoic expression. Misto, who gave her a quick smile. A giggle escaped the orange calico as she rolled her eyes, hoping to disguise the moment of enthusiasm she'd let slip. Alonzo's tail swished back and forth with impatience while Cori focused on the sparks at the end of his paws. She reached the end of the line.

Tugger scrambled to the top of tire, arms spread wide as he called out; "You're everything I hoped you'd be, you're funny."

The queens squealed and ran across the clearing, tails swishing rapidly as the excitement began. The rush of color was disorienting and all Teazer could hear clearly was the tom's laughter, and shouts of encouragement from the older cats. Funny was an easy one; she nudged Addie's shoulder, and he gave a crooked grin as he placed his arm around her waist. She resisted the urge to pull away. Addie was a friend, but she couldn't force herself to see him in this new light. Mungo, Cori, Misto, Pounce, Alonzo, and Tumble had also managed to survive the round. Applause went around the scene as Plato gave a gracious bow to his defeat, before leaning against the pipe to watch with everyone else. Teazer saw Victoria glance at the disqualified tom even as she clung to Misto's arm… a stab of jealousy and anger hit the calico queen, as they walked back to their side.

Tugger's voice rang out again, "You're everything I'd hoped you'd be… you're easy to talk to."

This time the toms raced across the clearing- some of them with such speed that many of the queens braced for a collision. Unsurprised to find Mungojerrie at her side, Teazer glanced up the line again.

Tumble and Vic.

Misto and Jem.

Alonzo and Cass.

Cori and Tanto.

And Addie and Pounce stood on either side of Etcetera, leaving Electra to join Plato on the sidelines. She lifted herself onto the pipe giving a short shrug to the assembly. Demeter laughed, leaning into her mate's shoulder before calling out to the young queen.

"I was always the first queen out too, Electra! Sometimes the tom you're looking for is on the sidelines as well."

Plato ducked his head, a self-conscious smile playing across his face as Electra nudged his shoulder.

Teazer giggled at her friend's antics, giving her an ecstatic thumbs-up as everyone else was distracted. The calico queen turned her brown eyes back to the toms now lined up again. She watched from the corner of her eye as Tugger opened his mouth, about to call the next round.

Jenny, however, beat him to it; "You're everything I'd hoped you'd be- you're kind!" Without another word, the Gumbie Cat wrapped her tail around Skimbleshanks', effectively distracting him from his pocket watch. Tugger rolled his eyes, shouting after her "Yeah, okay, let's go with that."

Teazer and the other queens began to run. Most of them didn't make it across, as they dissolved into fits of laughter when Mungo raised his paws in surrender, stepping away.

"Sorry, ladies. Kindness ain' one o' my virtues." Most everyone nodded, and the queens gave a round of applause as Jerrie sauntered to the TSE1. Teazer, though, held back a sigh. That round had been easy- one she didn't have to think about or guess at. Perhaps it would be the only moment she hadn't had to read too much into the game… and they had virtually skipped the round. Unable to let it go entirely, she glanced back at the toms, eyes sweeping to the end of the line. Misto held her gaze. And maybe she imagined it, but she could almost see the magic spark to life in his eyes.

"Tom's turn, right?" Tugger cleared his throat and the game began again.

"You're everything I'd hoped you'd be. You're confident." A few of the toms looked at Tugger with raised eyebrows.

The older tom placed his paws on his hips. "Trust me- this is gonna work out much better for everyone if I objectify you instead of the girls." He gestured over his shoulder. "You all forget; Bomba is not only the jealous type, but could easily kill me if she decides I'm encouraging any of you to be jerks." Bomba nodded at the toms with a look that clearly stated she would personally give them hell if any queen left the game upset.

"So play nice."

No one stood alone that round.

Grinning, Tugger lowered his voice, everyone hushing to hear.

"You're everything I'd hoped you'd be…" he wrapped an arm around Bomba's waist, pulling her to him until their noses touched. The younger cats groaned. "You're sexy."

Despite the hot blush in her cheeks Teazer ran, leading the race. She threw an arm over Alonzo's shoulder, as Cassandra gave her a once over, with mild disdain. Then again, the dark queen was more than likely to take Teazer's presence as a compliment to her taste instead of a competition.

Vic and Addie.

Cettie and Cori.

Jemima and Tumble.

Teazer with Alonzo and Cassandra.

Tanto and Misto.

Pounce gave a huff, and crossed his arms.

Cettie caved first, followed by Jemima; one stood on either side of the disqualified tom, leaning in and kissing his cheeks. He nodded, accepting defeat graciously after that.

Teazer unwound herself from Alonzo's side, brushing down the fur on her arms. If she was lucky she could brush away the sensation of Alonzo's paws too tight on her skin.

Tugger glanced over the remaining cats, before nodding.

"Toms choice… You're everything I'd hoped you'd be; you're adventurous."

The line rushed forward, pairing off with blinding speed.

Teazer opened her eyes as the sound died down, unable to keep the sigh of disappointment from escaping her mouth. She didn't have to glance to the side to know that no one stood beside her- she could simply feel the empty air.

She took a half-step forward. A gentle paw on her shoulder kept her from going farther than that.

"Look again."

Her breath caught in her throat, reevaluating the pairs around her. She couldn't bring herself to look at the tom behind her just yet.

Admetus stood with Cettie perched atop his shoulders, both of them with unbalanced smiles.

Tumble sat before Victoria, his head leaning against her knees.

Cori held out his arm shyly, Jemima avoiding his gaze as she linked paws with him.

Most surprisingly of all, Alonzo stood shoulder to shoulder with Tantomile- an easy camaraderie between them.

Cassandra had already draped herself across the tire with graceful boredom.

Which left Mistoffolees.

His slender claws barely touched the stripes on her neck, but she felt the electricity against her pulse point. She turned her head, surprised to realize she had to look up to see his face. He rolled his eyes with a smile.

"You really thought you wouldn't be picked for a trait like 'adventurous'?"

She gave a shrug, muttering under her breath.

"Not exactly. Oi jus' wasn't expectin' you to be the one to pick me."

He withdrew his paw, and she winced, suddenly aware of how her words must sound. Too late to take them back… unable to think of any other way to retract the unintentional insult she stepped back, leaning into his chest. The round was over, and the toms began to retreat to their own side. Teazer stared hard at the floor, whispering as Misto passed her.

"Oi didn' mean it loike that."

Tugger began the familiar phrase, but a deeper, dramatic tone finished it.

"You're understanding." Gus the Theater Cat stood, holding shaking arms wide in a grand gesture of invitation.

Jelly smiled, taking her mate's paw. He kissed her reverently and the pace of the game slowed. The queens did not race to the toms' sides. The five of them looked the line up and down, locking eyes with one of the toms, and walking to them with measured steps.

Many of the older cats watched with hushed anticipation, the whispers and surprised gasps stifled into background noise.

Tantomile didn't choose Cori but leant her forehead against Addie's with a secret smile.

Cettie stood with Tumble.

Alonzo took Jemima's paw with a look that dared anyone to challenge them.

Teazer was the last to choose. She placed a paw against Misto's arm, refusing to meet his gaze and keeping her back to the rest of the world. For a moment, she could feel his breath ruffle the fur by her ears before his attention was drawn back to other side of the clearing.

Unable to resist the curiosity, Teazer turned as well.

Cori stood at the center of the Junkyard, head held high. Victoria stood, still frozen across from everyone else.

Teazer's brow furrowed; what was keeping her there? It was simple wasn't it? Choose Cori, or someone else… weren't those the only choices? The calico queen felt Misto tense beneath her paw. Sneaking a glance at his face she saw the same confusion in his eyes as was surely written across her face.

Did Misto want Victoria to choose him? That must be it…

Until the white queen deliberately held out a paw to the tom that was alone.

Then it dawned on Teazer- she couldn't honestly choose Cori… but it appeared that Victoria would not leave him alone either. Teazer waited with everyone else for them to separate and take a place among their friends and family. Only they didn't. Still paw in paw, they walked to the worn out old oven. The silence lengthened. Cori lifted Victoria onto the rusted metal, leaping up behind her. Neither uttered a word, but nodded for the game to continue. Teazer whistled softly. Misto twitched at the sound, bowing his head to stare at her.

"If that ain't understanding, Oi don' think any o' us know what is."

The spark in his eyes brightened again, his arms wrapping around Teazer's waist before lightly pushing her towards the other side of the yard.

The light had faded long ago, and the amethyst shadows lent a severity to the game that the orange glow of sunset had not. It felt like a test now, instead of a lighthearted distraction. Before Tugger said those fateful words, Addie shook his head.

"I've decided to give my competitors a chance at winning," he laughed, "so I shall bid you all goodnight and good luck." He retreated to the edge of the clearing with a tired grin.

"Three toms left: Tumble, Alonzo, and Mistoffolees. Four queens left: Teazer, Cettie, Jem, and Tanto." Tugger breathed in deeply.

"Anyone have suggestions?"

A chorus of voices chimed in with opinions.

But Misto's voice rose over the rest; Teazer was distracted for a moment by how much his voice had deepened in the last year.

"I think the game's over Tugger… the moon's about to rise anyway."

Many nodded in agreement, and the clearing became crowded with movement; couples and families curled together, murmuring about the starlight and enjoying such a beautiful night.

Although her brother beckoned her over, Teazer clambered onto the fence at the edge of the yard, tail swishing against the splintering wood.

The cool air made her fur stand on end, but there was nothing as calming as the soft rush of wind around her. The fence creaked beneath a new weight; she closed her eyes as the electricity sparked against her paw.

"Is that one o' your tricks?"

He chuckled, the sound as intoxicating as the magic on her skin.

"Maybe… although magic only works if you want it to, you know."

They sat in content silence for what seemed like forever, until the brilliant silver moon rose above the TSE1.

Deuteronomy's voice echoed through the still air, and Teazer watched as he blew a kiss towards the shimmering sky, the Heaviside Layer a pale veil across the stars.

"You were everything I'd hoped you'd be… You were beautiful."

Misto leaned towards Teazer, placing his paw over hers.

"Well now… looks like we're the only two left then…"

She nodded, her lips a breath away from the magical tom's.

"S'pose so. And you're everything Oi'd hoped you'd be."

He stopped her words with a kiss, mumbling "You're perfect."


	2. Undue Risks- Jemima & Admetus

**A/N A strange yet likable couple :D thus please forgive the clichéd (?) plot**

"You need to stop thinking about this like it's a choice," she paused to fiddle with the plain leather collar that rested at the hollow of her throat, "it stopped being one as soon as it was more than just _your_ life on the line."

He looked her up and down with a quiet resignation; she was eighteen perhaps, certainly not a day more. Her coat was streaked with pale red and white and her black fur had a blue shine to it, highlighting the soft coffee color of her eyes. She was clearly well cared for… and it brought the question of 'Why pick me?' back to the forefront of his mind. The Junkyard always looked down on the scrap-metal cats; and the divide between the groups was as vastly different as their lifestyles.

They'd been speaking for hours now, tucked in one of the cutouts past the Junkyard's border. Her sudden appearance had startled him to say the least, and distracted him long enough for Jemima to begin talking. That was that- the ideas she mentioned, and the things she offered were practically irresistible.

"Are you listening, Admetus?"

He blinked the stars out of his eyes, and nodded. Running his claws through slightly matted fur, he sighed.

"So- if I have this straight…" he crossed his arms, hugging them to his chest, "You want me to pretend to be your mate... that way you'll be released from an arranged mating, and I'll gain acceptance to the Tribe." There was no question about it, no real confirmation needed, as she had made her point abundantly apparent. Yet somehow the ludicrous illusion she presented sounded almost like a perfect scam… although he was unsure if that was due to the details, or simply the melody in her voice that made it all right.

"Two days of a charade- that's all."

He sank to the ground at her feet with a jaded laugh.

"You make it sound like it's a kitten's game." Admetus turned to stare, "But the consequences are real if something goes wrong."

Jemima grinned, "Nothing's going to go wrong." She sat next to him, pulling a studded collar from the bag that she had clung to as she approached him. "Assuming you accept my offer that is."

Her small paw held the metal and leather in front of him. Neither of them moved. When the tom finally spoke, his voice was rough, as if he hadn't spoken for hours. Perhaps he hadn't.

"What's so horrible about the tom you're meant to mate with?"

The queen's claws extended, biting into her palm as she clamped her fist around the collar. The chocolate irises darkened.

"I don't know what you mean." The lyrical voice was distantly cold, suddenly the same disdainful tone that Admetus had heard from every other Junkyard Cat that wandered outside their border.

He shrugged, rising. "No one hates someone blindly. Just curious as to what your reason was for not wanting to be his mate." Turning on his heel, Addie took one long stride away before she caught his shoulder.

Refusing to look at him, Jemima answered.

"I've never seen him in my life. I know nothing about him other than a name."

A low whistle escaped the scrap-metal tom, before he glanced down at Jemima.

"Not a thing?"

The fur at her temples quaked as she shook her head. Sighing, he gently tugged the spare collar from her paw, clasping the cold leather about his neck.

"Then how do you know you won't like him, or grow to love him?"

Holding his arms wide in a mock-show of his borrowed finery, Addie waited for her to respond.

Carefully straightening the metal tag at the hollow of his throat, she murmured "I'm not willing to risk my heart and my future on those kinds of odds."

He avoided asking why she seemed willing to risk just that for his help.

An hour later and the two stood outside the gateway to the Junkyard, protected from sight by a glittering wall of shattered mirror pieces that created the illusion of hundreds of cats surrounding them. Admetus knew that in a few moments the sensation would become a reality.

Jemima smiled up at him with encouragement. He was struck again by how beautiful she was- although the fact that he knew so little about her overshadowed the thought. She had been careful to explain to him the details that were needed for their farce and nothing else.

"I hope you know what you're doing Jemima… because I certainly don't."

Looping her arm through his she nodded, leading them closer to the gates.

"I hope so too."

Admetus could almost feel the tension ease from the young queen's shoulders as she headed towards the center of the Yard.

His eyes greedily roamed across the sights before him. The cats nearby did not have fur tangled with garbage or caked with dirt. They did not have the burnt whiskers, missing claws, or yellowed paws and teeth of the strays he had always known. There weren't brawls for scraps, or the strained hissing that accompanied that fearful sinking feeling of a new arrival.

He had made the scrap-metal cats his family, but looking among the Tribe Admetus realized how different that word's meaning was to him. Family meant saving each other from a car, and sending a warning if danger was nearby; it meant pulling your fair share and hoping that every once in a while someone would cut you a break. Nothing more… or so he'd been told.

But as Jemima rushed among the other Junkyard Jellicles, her face aglow and true enthusiasm filling her introductions, he saw the difference between her family and his. It existed in the laughter and hugs from her friends, and the acceptance they offered Addie simply for being near her. There was nothing comparable to being wanted like that.

A great booming voice jolted Admetus from his euphoria, and Jemima let go of his paw for the first time since entering the Yard. She rushed past the old cars and pipes, leaping onto a dais constructed of an old tire. There stood an elderly tom, wide and jovial, his face creased with laugh-lines. A queen quietly appeared at his side, her fur worn to a dull gray. But the queen's dark eyes sparkled like the mist in front of the stars and Admetus realized she had the same gaze as Jemima.

His suspicions were confirmed as his "mate-to-be" led the couple down to him, saying "Grandmother, Grandfather; this is Admetus. He is _my_ choice."

The emphasis Jemima placed on the possessive term reminded him again of his part to play. He held out a confident paw.

"Pleased to meet you, sir. Ma'am."

"Well now, he certainly is a handsome one Jemi. I'm Grizabella- and my mate, Deuteronomy."

Deuteronomy chuckled, pulling the younger tom into a tight embrace. "You're going to be family, Admetus. Best get used to it now."

He grinned, taking the opportunity to pull Jemima to his side and twine his arms around her waist. "I guess so."

She whipped her head towards him, and whispered "Aren't you a tom of hidden talents?"

"Jemi!" Fast as lightning she was ahead of him, wound tightly in the arms of a black and gold queen that could only be her mother. He padded over, waiting silently as Jemima told the fabricated story of their romance. The same time as Addie stepped forward, a silver tom arrived, eliciting a laugh and a kiss from Jemima. Her father stood tall, his eyes narrowed as he glanced across the tom his daughter had supposedly fallen in love with.

"Come inside," Munkustrap's tone was weary though his smile was warm, "I want to talk."

Jemima nodded. She, Admetus, Demeter, Grizabella, and Deuteronomy followed him inside a rusted car, with a license plate that read TSE1. Settled inside among the cracked leather seats, Jemima's father took a moment to study them together.

With a paw braced to the bridge of his nose, he grimaced. "I can't change my decision, Jemima."

Admetus felt her growl, before he heard it; the low rumble of her chest vibrating against his side. "I refuse to change mine."

Those were the only words she uttered before storming from the car, her tail swishing behind her. "I'm sorry, sir. I think I should speak to her…"

He strode out after her. The light was dim when he left, and the night had settled long before he found her curled in a drain pipe at the edge of the Yard. His words came in an exasperated huff.

"What use am I, when you are the one who can't remember the lines?"

Her melodic voice was strained, and he realized that the raw sound was that of unshed tears; "I'm sick of acting for their benefit."

He held back a bitter laugh. "Then you set yourself up for failure- and me as well."

Rolling into a sitting position, Jemima nodded. "It's crazy I know… but I thought it would work."

"What's crazier," he muttered, his tone softening, "is that I accepted. I know nothing other than your name and a story you easily could have made up-Sound familiar?"

The gentle mention of Jemima's unknown mate formed an intense silence between them, but he continued regardless.

"But I still promised I'd help…" The crickets chirped a mournful symphony that nearly drowned Admetus out. "Tell me why you picked me."

Finally she looked up at him, the moon creating a pale highlight in the deep brown irises. A smile flitted across her lips, disappearing as quickly as he saw it.

"I suppose I have an affinity for lost things; it's gotten me into more trouble than it's worth and I wouldn't be any other way even if I had the choice."

His claws itched to trace the curve of her face, sneak a kiss, and pretend for a moment that he knew exactly who Jemima was. The feeling didn't fade, even after she looked away and stood. Spending his life among cats that were always trying to hide something or other, Admetus learned how to read an expression or movement with startling accuracy. A simple phrase was conveyed in her stance. Her back was turned towards him although she watched him over her shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist. It was what Addie had always called "what if".

What if she actually fell for him? What if this wasn't a charade?

A new voice echoed nearby and Admetus watched Jemima's gaze shift to the tom that entered the clearing. His coat was pale, with dark rust-colored patches and eyes framed with dark lashes. Admetus was reminded again of the differences between himself and these Junkyard cats emotionally, and physically as well.

Taking a step towards Jemima, Addie addressed the newcomer.

"Who are you, and why are you out here?"

The young tom gave a nod of his head, "Munkustrap sent me to find you both. He asked that you give him the chance to explain."

Jemima bristled, but she didn't move a muscle. "Then answer who you are- my father doesn't trust many cats, and I don't know your face."

"My name is Plato."

Addie sighed, the pieces falling into place when Jemima held her breath, eyes wider than ever. And his own what-if happened before his eyes. What if she fell in love with the tom she was meant to be with? What if he was in the way of her happy ending?

Placing a paw on her shoulder, Addie murmured in her ear, knowing his voice would carry in the silence.

"Go on back; I'll be right behind you. Promise."

She swallowed hard. He couldn't tell if she had succumbed to a moment of irrationality, or simply resumed their farce as she spun to face him. Standing on her tiptoes she pressed her lips to his. Breaking apart, she leant her forehead to his, and smiled.

No other word was said. Jemima followed Plato back to the Yard with measured steps. She did not run ahead or linger behind the young tom, but walked beside him.

His own paws shook as he removed the borrowed collar. Addie could see a future play out before him; Jemima by his side, and a kitten or two clinging to his tail, a community and family he'd never had. But looking at the picture in his mind it was impossible to tell if their smiles were genuine. Could a masquerade be that convincing?

Jemima had said she wouldn't place her heart against those odds… and neither would Admetus. For her sake and his own.

The collar was placed on the edge of the Junkyard.

A gentle breeze flipped the light aluminum tag after Addie had left it behind.

Scratched into the back with a rough, unpracticed hand like a kitten's were the words

' _For the heart as lost as mine;_

 _I wish you only the best… Perhaps our "what if" will be answered someday._

 _Love, Addie.'_


	3. Nevermind- Demeter & Alonzo

**A/N Requested by TsunaNarik.**

His grip finally loosened as the tunnel enclosed them. The curved walls reverberated with the soft sound of crying, and his own panting echoed again in his ears. Old paint colored the dim surrounding, with the moonlight fracturing off the mouth of the tunnel in jagged patterns. It was a distracting, horrifying illusion when combined with the growls, and hissing just out of sight. Shadows danced across the ground in front of him- silhouettes of cats with claws extended and fur standing on end.

The queen behind him shuddered. A powerful weariness settled on the young tom, but his reflexes remained as sharp as ever. He caught Demeter around the waist as she attempted to hurtle past him. His grip was tight, voice strained with the tension that filled them both. Her eyes reflected the flashing lights, golden fur bristled.

"Demeter, you can't get in the middle of this," he murmured, "It isn't safe and it isn't your fight!"

Her claws dug unconsciously into Alonzo's shoulders, tears streaking her face. She whimpered. "But it's my fault!"

Once more the queen tried to lunge past the patched tom with a force that shifted his balance. His paws pressed against the onyx stripes of Demeter's shoulders, tumbling them both back into the tunnel, Alonzo's broad chest pinning the petite queen beneath him. She froze, eyes wide and wary. A moment passed before he noticed how this must look to her, his head too dizzy to move or speak. She had all but stopped breathing, pressing herself hard into the dusty pipe floor to force a breath of air between them, perhaps hoping to disappear entirely from him, the fight, the junkyard, everything. At last Alonzo shook his head, breaking the stare of those copper eyes that still followed him closely.

He moved towards the junkyard opening, attempting to distract himself from the feeling of her tense beneath him… the feeling of her _afraid_ of _him_.

Alonzo was familiar enough with danger. Fear was commonplace to him, an emotion that no longer hindered his mind or body. The years of patrol would have been enough. The attacks from Macavity had taught him better. Aggression was a natural reaction now, when others tried to run away. But it was an altogether different feeling to be the one who intimidated others. The black and white tom felt himself go numb as Demeter eased. The farther he crouched, the more relaxed she became, her tears slowly returning as the shock receded from her veins, allowing the sounds outside to return.

The small queen curled her lips in a hiss. Her paws pressed tighter to her ears, already flattened against her skull.

 _I don't want to leave her,_ the blue eyed tom repeats in an endless refrain. Every moment until now he had shoved aside his own fear for the good of the Tribe, but his heart twisted at the thought in this second. Alonzo's blood was icy, but the sensation turned into an inferno when he glanced at Demeter, distraught.

"Alonzo, please, you have to help him! I can't stand it!" Her pleading was practically a moan, seeming to channel the pain into harsh syllables. A low growl echoed in the tunnel, and Demeter winced as both cats heard the sound of claws ripping skin. Macavity's unstable chuckle filtered in around them.

She screamed. That sound alone drove him to action.

Alonzo darted from the tunnel, pupils dilating until the pale blue iris nearly disappeared, straining to pull together the shards of light and movement into a recognizable image. The younger kittens has retreated to the far side of the Junkyard, crowded together in fear, Jemima and Etcetera clinging to one another behind the frazzled but determined guards Asparagus and Skimbleshanks. To his surprise Jellylorum and Coricopat held positions behind the Hidden Paw, edging him to the center of the yard, with Jennyanydots rushing to join them. The fiery stripes of Macavity were blurred as Mungojerrie and his sister stalked circles around him, unable to move closer.

He is distracted for a moment, caught in the frenzy as Munkustrap lunges forward. Demeter slips from the tunnel, eyes image of Munkustrap being lifted off his feet burnt itself in her memory. The sound of him hitting the ground- so far away from her- lodged in her mind. Inescapable.

Electra and Cassandra rushed to the silver tom. He didn't stir. The golden queen made a step, reaching out, exposed for a singular second whie Macavity's yellow eyes made an erratic sweep around the Yard, settling on her. She waited for him to turn on her, or kill her mate, or drag her away with him again, without escape this time.

"Alonzo, please!" Her voice was desperate, rough. _She is terrified of Macavity…_ Her copper eyes say it as clearly to Alonzo as if she shouted. But Demeter's grip on his shoulders as he blocks her from running again insist that there are other fears that are far more immediate to her.

Gently, he forced her back to the tunnel, crouching so their eyes were level.

"You have to listen to me."

His tone was low, authoritative. Demeter nodded.

"Don't move from this spot. Not until Macavity is gone. The others will help; if he moves any closer you run. Do you understand me, Dem? You run past the fence, away from the Yard, as far as you can."

White canines dug into her lip. "I understand," her small frame was blurred in the shadows, her voice suddenly small, meek, concerned, "What are going to do Alonzo?"

A quick smile eased the tension in his face.

"I'm going to protect you."

Alonzo moved faster than he thought he could, seizing the opportunity as Macavity laughed, cicrcling around as he watched Munkustrap fall and fail to rise. His claws fumbled for purchase in the knotted mats of Macavity's fur, grazing the back of his neck before the Hidden Paw whirled on him, forcing him to tumble to the side. Still, the Napoleon of Crime shook his head, momentarily stunned.

The patched tom rose again, tongue pressed to his teeth in a snarl. He ran.

And as his claws extended the thought flickered in his mind… _He sees me now. He'll stop me._

Searing hot pain tensed the muscles in his bicep and thigh, catching his breath. The heat spread, burning his shoulder and leg, his vision now blurred red. Pale blue irises disappeared as his pupils dilated, absorbing the fading light in search of the threat.

 _He can't have her. Not now… not ever._

His body collided with the ground, the breath forced from his lungs. It felt as if his chest would collapse in on itself, despite Alonzo's desperate attempt to rise. Still, even a cat as strong as Munk couldn't recover after that kind of attack. Alonzo tried again to stand, knees buckling under his own weight, slashing blindly in hopes of distracting Macavity at least. His breath was short, nose searching desperately for the rich scent of blood that wasn't his own.

Jerrie rushed past his line of vision. Then more orange stripes- Etcetera? Jenny? Jelly? Teazer? He couldn't tell anymore. The young tom only managed to differentiate the fiery orange of Macavity among the crowd of the Tribe.

That was all he needed to see.

Hissing and growling faded into one another, finally punctuated by a sharp, electric bang.

The fight ended as suddenly as it began, with the smell of singed fur, and the sickly-sweet tinge of magic lingering in the air.

Silence stretched between them all, hard breathing only emphasized the oppressive dark they found themselves plunged into. Demeter gasped, at last escaping the confines of the tunnel and cautiously wandering to the center of the yard.

Gus mumbles a worried "But Deuteronomy…" to a chorus of other concerns. She tuned it out quite easily, panic ringing in her ears when her mate was not immediately to be found. The shock wore away from everyone's minds, with unease taking its place in a slow build.

Alonzo offered the golden queen a weak smile as Pouncival found a light, moving the beam continuously across the clearing, highlighting anxious faces and the paw prints pressed into the soft dirt before the tire. Adrenaline still buzzed inside Alonzo's veins, heightening the nerves in his paws as Demeter brushed past him, resting her own paw on his shoulder for a moment.

She glanced at him, brushing the blood from his upper arm as he winced.

"I'm so sorry," Demeter whispered. She examined the torn skin, bordered by black and white, a shy concern lingering on her face. "Thank you."

He almost didn't catch the words. But her bronze eyes were raised to meet his.

Balancing on tip-toes, Demeter placed her forehead against Alonzo's, thanking him again softly. He nodded, the pain blurred in the back of his mind momentarily. Having her so close to him, able to feel the tension ease from her shaking frame, sent a shiver down his spine.

 _I want to stay just like this… I don't ever want to exist past this moment._

"You're welcome Dem. I want you to know-" He trailed off as Munkustrap groaned, pushing himself upright with a grimace. Demeter was instantly at his side, caressing his face, murmuring in his ear, and examining the wounds slashed down his ribs.

Silence consumed Alonzo as he watched her take Munkustrap's face in her paws, brushing the blood from his face. They curled against each other, assuring themselves that the other was safe, with Pouncival's drifting beam highlighting them in a shatteringly real light. Alonzo caught his breath, leaning against a junk pile, willing himself not to clutch at his chest. Demeter kissed Munk roughly, as if she may never be able to kiss him again. The black and white tom turned away, utterly empty.

An eternity passed before they stood, the whispers around them growing into a nervous chatter about Deuteronomy's disappearance. The silver tom stretched out a hand, and silence descended, broken only by Tugger's wry chuckle.

"Thank you, Lonz. I'm pretty sure you saved my neck out there."

Munk stumbled over, his arm draped around Dem's waist. Alonzo shrugged, eyes downcast. Nonchalant. Forced. As if none of it mattered. Demeter glanced up, eyerows knit together quizzically.

"Alonzo?"

He nods in her direction, motioning her to continue.

"I'm sorry, I was a bit distracted. What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh."

 _Cat got your tongue now Lonz, doesn't she? You can't tell her now._ _A cracked heart is better than one that is shattered after all,_ he thinks.

"I hope Macavity is gone for good now."

She smiled sadly, and gently led her mate away. Alonzo's pale eyes stayed firmly fixed upon the ground, the shards of colored glass and crumpled paper dancing with long shadows in the sporadic light.


	4. Perhaps- Etcetera & Plato

**A/N Requested by** **CommanderDataReportingForDuty** **and** **ducks-go-quack-00** **. Slightly shorter, but a fun shot nonetheless :D**

"They expect me to pick a mate soon…" she smacked his shoulder lightly, pulling his attention back from whatever blurry depths his mind contained.

"I know." It was the only answer he gave. He didn't even look up from where his gaze rested on the rusted scrap of the Yard's edge.

"Can you imagine; me, a settled and mature queen, with a mate and den?" She mimed the scenario, exasperation clear in her tone.

He smiled, pale eyes flicking up from the discolored metal.

"Although if I'm being honest, you'd be worse than I would! It's enough to make me shudder…" Cettie grinned, lessening the slight.

Now Plato really laughed, teasing. "Don't forget about the kits!"

"I have no desire whatsoever to have a kit with anyone; they are much too difficult to train."

He ignored her never ending commentary, shifting again inside the giant tire in the yard and wincing as the calico queen's elbows dug into his ribs for the thousandth time.

"Um, Cettie? How long before you outgrow using me as your personal pillow?"

Her manic grin returned and she shrugged. After a halfhearted attempt to shove her off, Plato resigned himself to the role. It certainly wasn't comfortable; her knees draped across his lap, her head lolling in the crook of his elbow, and her tail occasionally swishing beneath his chin. In this pose he supposed she looked like one of those sweet human dolls while he was a gangly marionette that happened to occupy the same shelf. Breathing as deeply as he could with her balanced on top of him, he turned his attention back to the issue at hand.

"I just don't understand why you set such high standards, and then complain about being single."

Her eyes were closed against the glaring sunlight, its beams turning her lashes gold and fracturing off her collar.

"So now it's a crime to know exactly what I want?"

Sighing, the white-and-rust tom glanced around the yard. "I didn't say that."

He should have just left it alone. There was no reason for him to be so concerned about her love life, or ask the kind of questions he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know the answers to. But it was irresistible.

"Then explain again what you want…"

Etcetera's sharp teeth glinted as she grinned, rolling her head to look out at the other queens and toms playing in the clearing.

"What I want? Or who?"

Quite literally biting his tongue, the patched tom refused to dignify the comment with an answer, waiting impatiently for her response.

A low hum preceded a lazy wave in Pounce's direction. "A sense of humor for one thing…you should get one, they're nice."

Narrowing his pale blue eyes, Plato scoffed, the sudden intake of breath causing Cettie to slip a little farther into his lap. Too consumed with their own attempts to hide the heat rising in their cheeks, both young cats were unaware of Pouncival's look of irritation; neither of them had ever quite learned to whisper properly.

"You know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," Plato managed to mumble.

"Well, I try to cater for my audience."

Cettie focused on the soft rumble of her claws across the rubber tire, pulling herself away a few inches. Breathing room… so Plato might not feel how fast her heart was beating now.

"So then, I would guess that Cori is out of luck then, on being your perfect mate."

"He is sort of cute- although I would die before ever letting him know that."

Her voice was flippant and bubbly, and she gestured vaguely towards Coricopat, and the other toms that roamed the clearing.

Plato rolled his head on his shoulders, settling his gaze on Cettie. As he watched her, he was reminded again of that unshakable urge to tell her how much his heart ached upon seeing her, how he thought he loved her more than anything else and how he desperately hoped she felt the same. Despite his wishes, the words that came out of mouth were, "Fells, will you shut up? That's so twisted."

Sapphire blue eyes flashing, she spun on him. "What about you and Jem then? That was creepy…"

Again, drawn so deep into their own conversation, Jemima's sudden interest went unnoticed. Pounce stepped closer to the petite queen, whispering in her ear quickly. She nodded, dashing around the yard to gather several other cats.

Plato folded his arms across his chest. "What was so bad about that?"

 _Well first off, the fact that it happened at all…_ restraining the frustration in her thoughts, Cettie sat up straighter, hoping to take on the dignified look of one of the older queens.

"She was too young for you. And at that point, all of us were too young to be in any kind of relationship anyway."

Forcing himself into a sitting position opposite the tabby queen, Plato raised an eyebrow.

"That didn't seem to stop you."

Sensing a fight looming, Tumble- the peacemaker of the group- sidled next to Etcetera, bumping her shoulder gently.

"Everything okay?" He smiled, one side of his mouth pulling higher than the other. Glancing at Plato from the corner of her eyes, Cettie turned her attention to the new tom.

"Just fine. We were talking about qualities we find attractive… care to weigh in with an opinion?" Plato was intensely aware as she placed a paw upon Tumble's knee.

Electra sauntered over, propping herself on her elbows near Plato's head. "If he won't, I will- a tom should be…bold. Not afraid to say what he wants."

A soft tap was heard as Cettie clapped her paws together. "I like that one."

"That's why Plato would be such a bad choice for any queen," the tortoise-shell queen continued, "He doesn't open up. Too guarded: how can you trust someone if you don't really know them? And then how can you love them if you don't trust them?"

Shrugging her shoulders uncomfortably, Cettie debated how to answer. Plato had never been anything but an open book to her; she knew the secrets he wouldn't tell his closest friends, and could tell when, where, and how he got every scar he had, and could describe his hideouts better than she could detail her own home.

Jemima hid a smile, lightly tapping Tugger and Bomba's shoulders before nodding her head towards the growing group.

A bitter edge cut through Plato's sarcasm; "You can cross off Misto too if that's the case."

"How come every time we have a conversation you end up making life decisions for me?" Cettie hissed, "Besides, his mystery just adds to the sex appeal."

She won a small moment of triumph as the rust and white tom grimaced at her word choice, before her own face flamed red when a nearby voice commented, "I'm flattered, truly."

A quick laugh rippled among the toms. Misto gave Cettie a once over, before sitting nearby, his back to the group.

"I've always hated the cliché that looks don't matter. I mean, obviously they aren't the only thing that is important, but an initial attraction is essential, wouldn't you agree Plato?" The magical tom gave only a short pause, "You could say it isn't something you notice- but you'd be lying. For example- answer with the first thing that comes to mind- blue eyes, or brown?"

Lingering on the question would only raise a more intense interrogation, so squaring his broad shoulders, Plato played along, his voice calm and clear… even if it was only a bluff.

"Blue."

Tugger chimed in, "Tall or short?"

"Shorter than me."

"Pale fur, or dark?" Bomba threw the question at him as she sauntered past, stilling for a moment as Plato snapped back.

"Pale."

He cursed himself, poker face slipping. Cettie was staring at him with an intense curiosity that he desperately wished to avoid. There was no easy way to answer the question in her eyes; no way at all to explain himself without breaking the safe, trusted sphere of "friendship".

Cettie's own bubbly voice, subdued with a hesitancy he didn't know she ever possessed, asked him, "And what about kissing?"

"What does it mean to be a good kisser, even?" He glanced up at her, and the joke no longer held the flippancy he had hoped for, "Does it mean they don't knock heads with you?"

Manic laughter echoed and at last, Plato caught a glimpse of Pounce behind Etcetera, leaping forward. He too leaned towards her; hoping to pull her out of Pounce's path. He wasn't quick enough.

His eyes closed- more in anticipation of the collision than anything else… Cettie braced herself against him, a shout of protest silenced as her mouth crashed into Plato's.

A cheer went round, and when the two finally opened their eyes again, everyone who had gathered around had dispersed. They all acted as if nothing happened, a nonchalant disregard for the plan they had so precisely executed. Only a quick wink from Pounce and Jemima indicated that the attack was intentional.

The cream colored tabby bit her lip, giggling as she returned to Plato's lap. Only now, she rested her head upon his chest, tucking herself beneath his arms.

"So- back to what I was saying before… I always dreamed of the perfect tom; tall, gorgeous, kind, caring, there's a whole list of things I was looking for... then I met you and the list went out the window. It's incredible."

Too stunned to think of a witty response, Plato closed his eyes.

"What is?"

Cettie rolled her shoulder, digging into the young tom's stomach, just below his ribs. He grumbled some insult under his breath as she answered. "The fact that you're the only thing that keeps me sane."

Smirking, Plato finally found his perfect comeback. "Really? Because you're the only thing that drives me crazy."


	5. Simply Complicated- Jenny & Bustopher

**A/N The "OC" name here is actually canon (even if the relationship is not) :P references made to Growltiger's Last Stand.**

 _Running away isn't that easy. The second you leave, you can't turn back. She took what little money she had, some clothes, and a few prized possessions, and left on a train. A lot of people say that train sounds are soothing, and help you sleep... they don't._

 _Each lurch of the car cause shivers to run up her spine, a chilling fear of being caught coursing through her veins. There were few people on the train: after all, anyone headed towards London as the Blitzkrieg advanced must be either desperate or mad._

 _Jenny couldn't decide which she might be._

 _The streets of London were dark; several buildings crumbled into the roadway, creating jagged piles of brick the same color as dried blood. Every so often headlights of army vehicles would pass, and Jenny would duck into the shadow, returning when the roar of engines had died away._

 _But the nearer she got to the Thames, the less aware she became. Only the screech of tires and angry shouts brought her back to reality in time to dodge one of the covered trucks full of soldiers. Gasping for air, she spun, the car disappearing around the corner… except for one man that leapt from the back, chasing something Jenny could not see._

 _Suddenly, a dark tom appeared in front of her. His black eyes were wary, and he stepped closer as the officer called out._

" _Jones-y! Where'd you go?" A few minutes passed, and the officer retreated. The tom watched Jenny, his demeanor easing slightly now that the officer had left. She gave him a terse nod, turning again towards the Thames, paws clenched into fists. He peered over his shoulder, cautious. But seeing no one, he followed her._

 _His voice was a calm, authoritative baritone; "Where are you going, Miss…?"_

 _Not slowing her pace, she answered. "Jennyanydots, sir. I'm going to find Growltiger's ship: there is a tom among his crew that I must find."_

 _The sleek black tom lay a paw on her shoulder, stopping her. "You won't find it. Not before they find you… please. Perhaps I can help. Don't be so hasty- it's dangerous out here. Wait until daylight at least."_

 _Her pale green eyes glanced up at him. The part of her that dreaded the confrontation she was seeking, begged to listen to the soldier cat. She lowered her gaze._

" _I- you're probably right. Thank you…"_

" _The names Bustopher Jones. Pleased to meet you."_

Maybe you don't know what you're getting yourself into… another day can't hurt…

 _The uncertain mantra had played itself through her head for more than a week, and she remained with Bustopher, surprisingly at ease among the bustle of evacuations._

" _Sometimes I think of what it must be like, being shipped off like that…" he said, broad shoulders shrugging as Jenney looked up in alarm._

" _I might do more good on the front lines… Wonder if I'm more use dead than alive at this point._

 _"You don't really believe that, Jones."_

 _The tom smirked, throwing the old collar he had clutched in his hand to the ground and grinding it underfoot. He glanced up through tangled lashes, his black eyes burning in the fading light._

 _"No. But it's better than admitting the truth." He grabbed her paw, leading the pale tabby towards one of the nearby pubs. Jenny listened to the hum of conversation, unable to find the words that might comfort the tom next to her._

" _Hmph, I'll have you know I'm as young as ever." An older tom- who Jenny recognized as Bustopher's friend and landlord Gus- scoffed in indignation. "Besides, men of_ my _esteem age like a fine brandy."_

 _The queen behind the bar laughed, her dark fur bristling as she leant across the counter. "For you to look young, it would take a fine amount of brandy indeed."_

 _Bustopher stood, rolling his eyes, as he took another swig from a bottle of amber liquid. "Jenny. Take a walk with me…please?"_

 _She nodded, taking the bottle and setting back out of his reach. "Ten minutes. That's it."_

 _Sighing, Bustopher muttered beneath his breath. "One day, I'll make something of myself; no more hanging around in alleys and junkyards. No more scrounging for food. Live on St. James Street maybe…" He chuckled. "Think I could manage that Jenny?"_

" _If anyone could, it would be you."_

 _Their steps fall in sync. Without realizing it, they had steered their way closer to the Thames than any time before. And it seemed to be a rule that the moment you forgot about something, it was bound to happen._

 _A low hum drifted over from the dock; a tune from Jenny's kittenhood. She froze. Bustopher too paused, but she waved him away, staring as he continued on a few paces, retreating into the shadows._

" _Who was that?"_

 _Her fur stood on end; "No one."_

 _A raspy laugh accompanied the tom that stepped into view. His fur was ragged, a pale orange with brown stripes across his back. He loomed over her._

" _You were never good at keeping secrets, sis."_

" _One of us had to tell the truth, Grumbuskin."_

 _Her older brother gave a snarl, holding on to her arm to keep her from fleeing. Though his slaws bit into her skin, the look on his face was desperate, almost ashamed._

" _I'll change Jenny. I could be the brother you wanted me to be…"_

" _Don't lie. You can't change; even if you could, just the thought of what you have done in the past, all those horrible sins you committed; why, it's downright disgusting you haven't turned that knife on yourself yet."_

 _He grimaced, releasing his grip on her arm and stepping away. Pulling the blade from the curved scabbard at his side, Grumbuskin balanced it expertly in his paw. He blinked slowly, eyes set on Jenny, tilting his palm so the knife slipped, thudding against the ground._

" _I didn't come to hear your lectures or to deny your accusations…"_

 _One by one, he removed the regalia that had claimed him as a pirate, listening intently to each passing thump as they fell._

" _I came to tell you I'm leaving. The fleet has lost, though they don't see it yet. I'm not gonna risk being a part of their downfall- I'm sorry for being a part of the crew in the first place. Come with me. We could go back home…"_

 _She shuddered, dodging his attempt to grab her paw. "I won't."_

 _He growled, enunciating each word. "This is your last chance to be a part of this family."_

" _I don't think she wants to be." Butopher Jones sat a few feet away, arm crossed over the wide expanse of his chest, his posture relaxed, almost bored._

 _Grumbuskin backed away, glaring as he headed towards the boats at a soldiers retreat. Bustopher harrumphed, shoving away from the wooden post, covered in mooring line. As he followed the stray tom a few paces, Jenny took the opportunity to rub the tears from her pale green eyes. She shouldn't have felt as guilty as she did; Grumbuskin had been the one to walk out on her…_

" _Come on…" the deep voice was gentle, "let's head back before Gus finds us out here. I'd rather not have to think on my feet this late at night." Jenny nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, hoping she might rein her emotions in just as easily._

 _He did not hesitate to offer her his arm, whispering "I'm sorry for your loss, Jenny…"_

 _Bustopher's voice faltered, and the tabby queen gave a quick nod. "Me too."_

 _The tall tuxedo tom led her back to the tavern, pausing in the alleyway outside._

" _You know… I truly believe you deserve all the love the world can offer you…"_

 _He leant in as if to kiss her, but she raised a paw over his mouth with a sad smile. "It would be selfish to give you a heart that's breaking, Bustopher Jones."_

 _Nodding, he moved Jenny's paw over his heart._

" _Then I'll wait for it to heal."_

The sound of the front door being opened snapped Jennyanydots from her memories, and she glanced up from her place on the windowsill. Stretching lithely, Jenny slipped to the floor, waiting patiently at the doorway of the parlor. A grin spread across her face as Bustopher followed their gentleman into the house.

"We are going to the yard tonight, aren't we dear?" Her mate gave a laugh.

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world. Misto and Victoria are both performing tonight, and isn't Etcetera doing acrobatics as well?"

Jenny nodded, slipping her arm through Bustopher's as they headed towards the back door. There was nothing dearer to Jenny than her family; all of it. She still celebrated the birthdays of her previous mate, and Bustopher's, both long since passed. She made no distinction between his children and hers. And the grandkits were her pride and joy, regardless of their bloodlines. Their heartaches, battles, and downfalls were her own, but so were their countless joys.

And when asked how on earth she managed to find love more than once- in a single lifetime- Jennyanydots would give an affectionate glance at Bustopher Jones, silently thanking him for living his life and still waiting for her in a corner of his heart. Then she would answer calmly.

"It's simply complicated."


	6. Facade- Victoria & Tugger

**A/N- enjoy :P Requested by UniqaChica :)**

"Don't go!" Her voice broke, and Victoria pulled as far away from Admetus as she could manage. His paws were wrapped tightly around her waist, her forearm braced against his chest, and she was distracted for a single moment, realizing she felt absolutely nothing about the tom pressed to her side.

"You can't leave me!" The tears were now streaming down her face, as Addie pulled her behind him, effectively blocking her from the other tom's sight.

"He doesn't have a choice." The growl in Addie's voice was clear, echoing in the dim light.

Her breath caught in her throat as Tugger took a step towards them.

"You have to listen- let me explain..."

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, and moved forward another step.

Admetus laughed angrily, "I'm done with excuses and lies. Get out. Now!"

Tugger's voice was pleading now, "Come on- please. We were friends once..."

The statement seemed only to enrage the tawny cat more; he leapt away from the distraught queen, his claws extended and slashing.

The two toms were mere inches away from each other before a deafening cough echoed around them. All movement ceased immediately, and Victoria stepped forward to join the toms. She dabbed absently at her eyes, checking for the twentieth time that her makeup hadn't run as they waited. She'd been crying for hours now- it was quite inconvenient considering she would only be at the theater even longer for touch-ups between runs… which, put simply, meant more time around Tugger. A grimace escaped from her careful mask at the thought.

Gus sighed, leaning forward in his seat, the dark red velvet creasing beneath his claws. A smile flashed on his face before he gestured to Addie with a shaking paw.

"I have no further directions for you, Admetus. At least not today. If you'd be so kind, however, I would like to speak with Tugger and Victoria for a moment."

Giving a nod of agreement, Addie walked off the stage, his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit.

Tugger on the other hand, rolled his eyes, arms crossed.

"What on earth is it now?!" His voice reverberated around the empty audience with an arrogance that grated on Victoria's nerves. They were hours away from the opening of Gus' play to the Tribe, and somehow he was still displeased with their performances. The white queen sat at the edge of the stage, waiting patiently as the Theater Cat rose, hobbling closer to give them direction in the only way he knew how; example.

The rasp in his voice was diminished the nearer he got, but the words took on the harshness that was thankfully not mirrored in his tone.

"I feel nothing from you; either of you. Nothing at all."

Tugger bit his tongue to keep from shouting, sitting with his knees to his chest in the hopes of containing his frustration. "It's not so easy to fake being in love."

Victoria glanced at him, a snide remark about it being near impossible to love Tugger whether he was acting as someone else or not, but she was cut off, the words she heard a strange amalgam of Tugger's opinion and her own thoughts.

"You're right- faking love isn't only difficult, I could damn well say it's impossible."

Victoria's laughter was shrill. "Then what do you suggest?"

"The best actors draw on experience. I'm done asking the two of you to like each other; it's not enough anymore." The old tom ran a paw through the fur above his ears, the watery blue eyes stern and determined. "You best figure out a way to fall in love with some small aspect of each other in the next two hours; and I shall expect you to perform the final scene with all the emotion the theater demands."

He said no other words, but sauntered off the stage, leaving the two of them sitting across from one another in stunned silence.

She stared at the Rum Tum Tugger with a cool defiance; she would not be the first to address the issue. He repressed the laugh rising in the back of his throat and stood.

"The sooner we figure this out- the sooner it's over."

Her glare wavered, and finally collapsed as she crossed to sit next to him. "Fine." She brushed sawdust from the pure white fur at her wrists, beginning the conversation with the only thing she knew they had in common.

"So- I'm Griddlebone, you're Growltiger, and Addie is Ghengis. You and I are in love, but Admetus wants me all for himself… simple. So why doesn't that come across onstage?" She didn't dare look at him- there was too much to accomplish still, and fighting with him would only make it all worse.

Tugger smirked, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of her face. "I could tell you why… but I doubt you'd believe me." He brushed some of the orange makeup from his face, turning it back to the burnished gold that was so recognizable. Victoria leant back, her eyes closed but her attention undivided.

Any queen would fall for Tugger's looks- and though his attitude left much to be desired, Victoria couldn't deny he was handsome. His voice, however, was practically hypnotic.

"I suppose," she muttered, "it's best if you tell me- I'd rather not have notes to work on tonight of all nights, Tugger."

"It's not simple."

Her brows furrowed at his words, and she shook her head. "I don't-"

"This story isn't just about Growltiger and Griddlebone being in love. It's a story that shows their love through their passion, struggles, desire, and irrationality to the world around them- there is no precise formula or equation to it, and it will never be orderly or controlled. The whole point is that it isn't. But I'm afraid that kind of chaos isn't in your nature, Victoria."

His paws were still; his speech seemed substantial even in the fact that he was not theatrical about saying it, lending him an honesty and credibility she didn't know he ever had.

Criticism wasn't something she suffered well, but her curiosity won out, and she nodded. "Alright; I can see your point. But if, like you say, that type of insanity isn't in me, what do we do?"

A slow smile crept to Tugger's face, canine teeth bared. "I didn't say you don't have it- only that it isn't your nature to show it… there are ways to change that."

Her sapphire eyes rolled skyward. "And they are…?"

"Just remember: you asked."

There was no time to react, wonder what he meant, or even blink. His paws dug into her waist, dragging her to his chest. His mouth crashed against hers. His tail wound about their legs, twisting them closer together even as she tried to pull away. Struggling for breath, Victoria managed to free her arms. She gasped as he broke away hissing.

"You scratched me!"

The adrenaline in her veins was overwhelming- her heartbeat was loud in her ears and looking down she noticed blood on her claws. Tugger's statement rang with shock. Slowly, the rush faded.

"What in the Fells did you expect me to do? You could have warned me." She pressed a paw to the bridge of her nose. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Tugger."

He growled. "Then you didn't learn what you should've."

This time he snatched at her wrists, pinning them behind her back. His kiss was just as forceful as before, his grip too tight. Victoria fought him again, attempting to knee him. She only managed to stumble, and as she hit the ground he was there pinning her to the floor. His weight compressed her lungs, and his lips still moved against hers.

Unable to control her anger, and the desperation for air, not to mention the frustratingly strong desire to beat him at his own game, Victoria leant into the kiss. Tugger smiled against her mouth, and she took her opportunity.

The hiss was louder this time, followed by a string of cursing that would have given the famed pirates a run for their money. He spun back to face her with his gold eyes wide. She watched as the blood trickled from his lower lip.

She sauntered closer.

"Touch me again without my permission and I'll make sure no one finds your body."

He grinned. "That's better- so we've established fury, wouldn't you agree?"

Her breath still came in short pants, her shoulders shrugging delicately. "I think that's a fair claim."

The black fur of his shoulders shook as he laughed, sliding down to sit at her feet. "I'm sorry- but I promise it will serve you well. Passion is nearly the same thing- except without the threat attached to the end… so let's work on intimacy…"

She growled, leaning away. Tugger arched a brow, the smirk pulling again at the corners of his mouth. "I didn't mean physically, Victoria. This game is much simpler. All we need to do is share a secret or two."

"You make it sound so easy- so why don't you go first?" The acid in her voice was overshadowed by a note of interest. It was the same feeling as finding a trinket in the junkyard you know you shouldn't pick up, but had to anyway. The feeling intensified as Tugger shrugged his shoulders, his paws suddenly jittery against his knees.

Victoria smiled, leaning into his side with a gentle nudge to his ribs. "Here I thought you were an open book; nothing to hide."

He chuckled, closing his eyes. "Yeah- that's what everyone thinks." Tugger held his breath, letting the words rush out as he finally exhaled. "I've never forgiven my mother for leaving the Tribe."

A pin could have dropped, and the sound would have echoed. "That's not much of a surprise, Tugger…"

Nodding, he continued, "I know. My secret is I'd rather know she was dead, instead of always wondering why she left, where she is, and how she is. Peace of mind is a valuable thing."

Wrapping her tail around her frame Victoria stared hard at the worn red curtains blocking them off from the rest of the world.

"I don't want to dance with Plato at the Ball."

"Really?"

"I know it's important… but it's like the way Griddlebone feels about Ghengis. I get it- but I don't feel it."

Silence stretched between them, until he spoke.

"May I?"

Her head tilted forward. "Yes."

And she moved first, slowly, deliberately. She wound her claws in the fur ringing his throat. The pressure of his lips was softer- her paws ran down his chest, resting against the curve of his ribs. Tugger drew back, pressing his forehead to hers. His breath stirred her fur as he whispered "We better go get ready… the show will be starting soon."

Victoria took her opportunity to kiss him another time, mumbling the words "If this doesn't work, I don't know what will."

He grabbed her paw, holding on until she stepped out of his reach.

"See you on stage."

The lights dimmed and the crowd in front of them hushed. Gus' gray and black coat was a dim blur at the back of the theater as Victoria entered from the wings, her steps a faint thud on the set. Blinking away from the glare of footlights she glanced up through false lashes at the tom sitting at the prow of the wooden ship, which leant out over the edge of the stage.

"Why do you sit out here, all alone?"

He turned at her question with a single copper eye gleaming, as the other was distorted by a milky blue contact... though the effect was strange to her, and no doubt intimidating to the audience, it did nothing to lessen how handsome he was. All his gold fur was painted a fiery red; still Victoria didn't see any character other than Tugger in front of her.

"I'm not alone now."

She smiled, draping herself across his lap with an ease that was as comfortable as it was unfamiliar.

"You're right. Now we'll never be alone again, shall we?"

There was no answer, except for a sigh and a kiss. Victoria held her breath, losing herself in the moment. Addie's leap onto the stage resounded with a crash that genuinely startled her. Clinging to Tugger's arms, she stood. Perhaps a second had passed before Admetus threw an arm around her waist and tore her away. She heard the echo of dialogue they had practiced that day as Tugger was backed towards the ship's plank. But now as she recited her lines there was a raw power to the words, an uncontainable reality that put a tremor in Tugger's voice, and created real tears in her eyes.

And as he fell, the scream that clawed its way out of Victoria's throat was filled with all the anguish as if she too had suddenly died of a broken heart.

The curtain closed with the accompaniment of a standing ovation.

They stood shoulder to shoulder behind the drape with paws clasped tightly.

Tugger grinned, "So- if we've covered the basics of being in love… what do you see we take a chance on the details?"

Victoria rolled her eyes, her tail twining with his.

"I think it's worth a risk."


	7. Drunk on Dreams- Cassandra & Mungo

**A/N More dialogue than some others, but I love the scenario :P Enjoy!**

His head was spinning, the colors of the Yard blurring together into a jumbled mess before slinking away from one another into a more recognizable image. Catching himself against the TSE1, Mungojerrie closed his dark eyes tightly; waiting to open them until the neon colored specks of light had faded. Managing to hold himself upright, Jerrie took a step towards the gates- the vague notion of returning to Victoria's Grove stuck in his head.

The young thief stared over the gate, his brows furrowed over deep set eyes. A queen seemed to be appearing and disappearing in the field of his vision just in front of the gate leading from the Junkyard. Her paws gripped the splintering railings as she leaned away from the soft thud of Jerrie's pawsteps. His vision was hazy, and spun in lazy circles as he tried to clear his head from the veterinary drugs. Suddenly, Cassandra was in front of him, a scathing concern etched on her elegant features.

"What in Bast's name is wrong with you?" Her brows arched with disdain, and Jerrie stumbled closer. She leant away, bracing her paws on the fence.

"I swear to drunk I'm not Bast." A grin crossed his face, and the calico tom began to laugh. Bent at the waist, he let his paws slip from the railing and down Cassandra's arms; though the action certainly didn't help him catch his breath.

The Abyssinian queen rolled her eyes, trying to claw Mungojerrie's paws from her waist.

"I would hope not- if you were I would be expecting the impending apocalypse at any moment."

Gritting her teeth, Cassandra managed to release herself, locking her paws against Jerrie's shoulders to keep the both of them steady.

"Fells- you look terrible."

"They gave me stuff that was a bit stronger than spiked cream, yeah. Kinda like the buzz though…" Trying again to launch over the gate, Mungo slipped, hitting the ground hard. He giggled as he brushed the dirt from his mouth.

"Doesn't help with the acrobatics sadly."

Cassandra's commanding voice wavered only slightly. "Jerrie- I need you to tell me exactly how much nip you took." She wasn't usually one to get involved in other people's lives- it was only asking for trouble. Still, she wouldn't let the poor bugger accidentally kill himself if she could help it.

"What're you talking about?"

Gritting her teeth Cassandra forcibly stilled the calico tom. "What are you on right now, Jerrie?"

His brows knit together, and he mulled the question over. "Can't remember what it's called. Some kinda anti-venom. Spider had a bite worse than Teazer's."

Shaking her head, Cassandra spoke slowly, "You got bit by some poisonous spider, and decided to leave your house after the vet shot you up?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly."

"Brilliant." Her pale blue eyes scanned the clearing of the yard, hoping to find Teazer, or Jenny and Skimble, and release Jerrie to their custody. Unfortunately, the Junkyard seemed to be unusually quiet, with most cats gone to their owners as the last humid days of summer faded into autumn.

"Where's your sister anyway?"

"Which one? Teazer? Out raiding, I'd guess." Sitting at Cassandra's feet, Jerrie gave a frown, "Don't trust me to get home myself?"

"Not like this I don't. So for now, you're stuck right here with me."

Curling up a few feet away from him, Cass couldn't help the blush that rose to her face as he closed his eyes, mumbling "Doesn't sound so bad to me."

Taking the opportunity while he wouldn't notice, she glanced across his face. It still held the scar on the bridge of his nose where she'd struck him several years ago, after he'd made a joke about her mother that hit too close to home. His left ear was still bent ever so slightly from all the times Teazer had tried to gain his attention tugging his head down to her level, and he'd never outgrown the habit of tapping his paw against his knee when he was thinking. But so much else had changed since they were all friends as kittens. His shoulders were broader, and he was finally taller than her… and they rarely spoke at all nowadays. They might sit together at Tribe gatherings, and had danced once or twice at some Ball or other. But life had taken them in such different paths, that Cassandra assumed there was nothing the other could identify with.

The thought brought a distant smile to her face.

"What's so funny?" His blunt voice startled her out of her thoughts.

"Small talk is not something I am comfortable with." Her voice was soft, almost inaudible.

Jerrie sidled closer, crossing his arms and balancing his elbows against his knees. "I know. I remember you never being a too interesting conversation partner."

Scoffing, she replied, "I regret to tell you but at the age of seven, neither were you."

"Guess I did go a bit overboard on the enthusiasm: to be fair, I never really had to talk to a queen-kit that wasn't my sister… and if I remember correctly all of them stopped speaking to me for about six months just before that…"

Her eyes widened, and Cassandra tried hard to suppress a chuckle. "What on earth for? Surely you weren't that much of a troublemaker so early on."

"You'd be surprised!" His head rolled against his shoulders, the dark orange stripes shifting into new patterns as he tried to clear his head and think about events from so long ago. "Da had let us come on a round around the train, and we were waiting on the track. Some kinda trouble with the engine or something. It was so boring just sitting there, so I snuck up on the girls and hissed… scarred Tori so bad she fell off the car onto the rails. Teaz very nearly shoved me off too, but we managed to get Tori back on board 'fore Da knew anything. They didn't rat me out, but the sure as Fells made me pay for it. Especially Cettie."

At that, Cassandra relented, laughing gently. "That's some story, Jerrie."

Her words still sounded slurred and distant, but Cassandra's laugh had been loud and clear in his muddled mind. Focusing hard he glanced up.

"I got lucky. I'd like to think I'm a decent older brother, but Teaz, Cettie, and Tori make it easy. I don't think I've ever asked how well you get along with your brothers…"

It wasn't exactly a question. He wasn't forcing an answer. But his honesty- drug inspired though it may be- compelled her to trust him the same way.

"Tugger is Tugger. Not much to be said about that; I wish I could say that his arrogance is just an act, but he is officially a drama queen at all times. Addie, Victor, and I get along alright though…" She sighed, shrugging.

"Then again, Victor hasn't been back to the Tribe in, what? Five years? Six? Addie isn't around much either. He's a lot like me- not really one for conversation."

Jerrie's brows creased together- "You don't seem too reserved right now."

"It's easier to share things with someone who's high enough that they probably won't remember much tomorrow," her tone was kinder than her words, and Jerrie gestured for her to continue. "My mother was very pleased with herself when she gave birth to a girl after having three boys."

"And then that girl grew up to be you and she's been marginally less pleased ever since." His face was animated, the clown-like smile slightly tilted as he nudged Cassandra's shoulder.

"I'm still learning how to laugh about it… but yeah."

"Oh." His ears drooped, and he began stumbling over his words. The haze was retreating more now as end of the day bustle began around them. "Fells, I'm sorry. I didn't mean- I don't want you to think… I'm sorry."

A quick nod was the only confirmation that she'd heard him. Then, with a speed that he couldn't quite believe, she rose.

Embarrassed but determined, Jerrie lurched forward to snatch Cassandra's paw. "Wait- lemme try to make it up to you."

"It's fine Jerrie. You're half wasted- I should go find one of your sisters or something…" But she lingered for a moment, and that was the only opportunity he needed.

"Ok, so, I'm going to tell you something that I wouldn't tell a normal person. But since you're not normal, I feel justified."

He cringed at the derisive snort that she made.

"And I mean that in the nicest way possible. Really. It was a compliment."

His paw tightened as she gave a half-hearted attempt to shake herself loose. "Wow, Jerrie. Just... wow."

"Will you give me a chance? I'm trying to share a secret here Cass."

Pausing, Cassandra looked down at the calico tom with piercing blue eyes. "Fine. Then tell me, so I can go spend the rest of the evening in peace. Really, how hard can it be?"

His response didn't help his cause. "That's what she said."

"She wasn't talking to you, Jerrie. Get on with it."

With uneven breathes, he forced the words. "I'm not good with the whole 'romantic declaration' thing, but I'm doing my best."

The Abyssinian queen froze, muscles rigid. "That's one joke too far."

"Really?! I know I'm a bit out of it- but this is hardly the worst state I've been in Cass! Fells, I've woken up in a sparkly pink costume meant for stuffed animals, with a little human girl talking to me, in a house that wasn't even mine!"

Letting go of her paw, Jerrie pulled himself to his feet. "I know you won't believe me at this point. But I do know what I'm saying. And I swear it's not a joke."

"Then why is this the first time you've said anything!?"

"You remember when we were seven years old? You didn't like talking to anyone, and you didn't listen much when someone talked to you. I kept trying. I told you day one how beautiful I thought you were, and if I recall I insisted I would dance with you at your coming-of-age. You laughed, and I was so afraid of being cut out that I didn't correct you. It was _never_ a joke."

A pale blur rushed over as Jerrie swayed where he stood. Victoria smacked him lightly, stern voice unable to conceal her smile. "Mama's furious- she's been going on all day, telling Jellylorum that you're going to put her in an early grave."

Turning to lead her brother back to their den, Victoria noticed Cassandra, perfectly still in front of them.

"Hey Cassandra- I'm sorry, I didn't see you. Aren't you usually back at home by now?"

"I was on my way out, but I saw your brother wasn't quite with it. I figured I'd make sure he didn't go running towards the roads or anything. Looks like I can leave now though."

Victoria turned to Mungojerrie, her face the perfect picture of curiosity. "I didn't know you two were still friends."

"We have a love-hate relationship. I love her and she hates me."

Victoria's eyes were saucers, and she bit her lip, "Well, I'm sorry I interrupted. I guess- I'll just let you two catch up? See you at home Jerrie!" She dashed towards their den on her toes, and Cassandra could only imagine how fast this new revelation would travel around the Yard.

"Hate is a bit of a loaded term, don't you think?" Cassandra ran her paws up her arms, staring at the ground.

Sighing, Jerrie rubbed his eyes, finally ridding them of the last few smoky swirls. "What do you think I should say instead Cass?"

"I don't hate you Jerrie. I'm just… not capable of believing you right now. I've spent too much time listening to the people that think I'm cold, and aloof, or cruel. Still. Maybe you could remind me what you think of me. Force me to hear what you're saying… it might sink in if you say it enough. Anyone can change, can't they?"

The silence stretched, and she finally met his eyes. "That's the best I can offer you."

With a lopsided grin, and a dizzy feeling that was caused by an entirely different drug, Jerrie answered.

"Okay."


	8. Lionheart- Bomba & Cori

**A/N Not gonna lie, I'm kind of addicted to the darker potential this couple has ;) enjoy! Warning for mild violence.**

The yard that had been crowded with movement and voices a moment before was suddenly nothing more than heavy silence and bowed heads. She bit her lower lip, sharp teeth indenting the skin in an attempt to hold back her venomous words. She glared at the ground as the numerous Jellicles passed her- the slow but stately tread of Deuteronomy, the long swaying strides of the elder son Rum Tum Tugger. Bombalurina virtually held her breath as they crossed the yard; only their protection kept her from Macavity's wrath. Although in all honesty, it was more to serve their own purposes- she had useful information, and her connections to the Napoleon of Crime were the perfect excuse to keep the scarlet queen locked away inside their Junkyard.

 _"You are naught but a pawn, an expendable plaything to control and dispose of on a whim—a pretty puppet on a string." Rum Tum Tugger drawled, his form sprawled out across the tire before Deuteronomy's throne. The scarlet queen stood tall before him, face solemn and paws bound._

" _If that is all you think of me, then what is there to protect me should you lose your battle with Macavity? He is skilled, and has studied all the possible details of a war against you…"_

 _The elder prince's tone was acidic. "Competence on the battlefield is a myth. The side which screws up next to last wins, it's as simple as that."_

The pawsteps faded, and Bomba heard many rise and leave with the sound. Her tail curled around her knees, the joints cracking as she rose to turn and take herself as far from her captors as she may. A voice called after her; quiet but commanding.

"Wait."

She saw his shadow before he placed himself in front of her.

"Well now; it seems we have a thief in our midst… I find my heart has gone missing." She turned dark eyes on the younger son of Deuteronomy; the prince Coricopat. He placed a paw lightly across his chest, a smile catching at the corners of his mouth.

He was as tall as his brother, head held high and shoulders squared. Handsome…if only he weren't an accomplice to her torment.

"Perhaps you should avoid the fashion of the court and place your heart somewhere safer than your sleeve, sir. Step aside!"

Bombalurina began walking, ducking beneath his outstretched arm and quickening her pace, hoping to get away. She managed perhaps three steps before his paw caught her wrist, sending her spinning around to face him. His grip was tight, crushing, bruising, and a gasp slipped past her lips. He immediately released her, though his expression remained steely.

"You shall not speak so to a Prince, lady."

Cursing under her breath, Bomba gathered her resolve, pouring her fury into the words she would not dare speak to anyone before this.

"My father Growltiger was King here once, and it is my brother Macavity who stands against you now. I have grown up around royalty, and I see no reason to curb my tongue now."

He frowned, shoulders stiff. Bomba grinned. She could easily be punished for such statements, but it seemed she couldn't help herself…there was something infuriatingly irresistible about this conquering-savior.

However, Cori moved a step closer, muscles tensed. Waving a paw, the few servants who lingered nearby retreated; he did not move again until even their shadows had gone.

"And now that your court is gone, will you strike me?"

He shook his head, the black of his eyes narrowed. "No. I simply wish to talk with you, without such avid listeners."

Shrugging delicately, Bombalurina spun on her heel, perching herself on the fence at the edge of the clearing. A mirror lay shattered on the ground in front of her; she focused her attention on it, attempting to pick out the strands of copper in her fur, so she might forget about the tom that stood behind her.

Coricopat sighed. Each time he had spoken to the scarlet queen, she sat in front of that broken mirror for hours at a time, staring at her reflection from different angles and humming what was probably a lullaby.

His thoughts circled for something to say, to ease the silence. And the only phrase that came to mind was the one he asked her each time she retreated to the silver backed glass.

"What are you looking at?

At first he had assumed it was simple vanity; nothing new in a court whose Princes were young, and neither were mated. His gentle voice had asked what she was looking at, and Corico refused to believe her when she explained that she wasn't watching herself, that she was peeking into another world behind the glass, a world that looked much like theirs but was somehow brighter, better.

Perhaps grief had made her crazy, or it was a strange trick to make him the fool. After that, whenever her steps led them to the mirror, he had echoed that initial question. Her smoky voice stayed sealed behind her lips. But it was enough to just admire her beauty. Her odd fur and tremendous brown eyes that were covered with a dull film of disinterest and that skimmed over everything she saw. It was hard to listen to her when she spoke, because she never made eye contact with anyone, and also because she swayed her hands along with her words as if everything escaping her mouth was somehow lyrical.

Nobody in their right mind would have believed what she was saying, and Corico thought that many cats would have ceased paying attention to her long before he did. It was near impossible to say why the younger Prince kept asking her what she looking at.

Partly, he supposed, it was the growing desire to see her tilt her chin upwards, her lips pinched into a thoughtful, almost regal expression in the glass. Mostly Corico wanted to check, to see if she would give him the same answer as before, or any answer at all.

Yet he couldn't deny the small corner of his heart that would never give up the hope that someday she would give a different answer, or better still, she would put the mirror down and look at him. More than anything, Corico craved a moment where Bombalurina would catch his gaze in the glass, and turn, to truly look at him.

This time- the same as all the times before it- was no different. She didn't turn, or speak.

The disappointment that stabbed at Corico's heart shocked him, and for a moment he was furious at himself for even daring to hope. He gave a curt nod, and spun on his heel to leave.

Four paces were as far as he'd gone when a sound echoed after him; Bombalurina was laughing. The dark stripped prince froze, refusing to look back at her.

"You have never left so quickly before."

"Your point, lady?"

"I have none…" Bombalurina's voice was distant, quiet. "I must ask. Why am I treated as a criminal here? Deuteronomy has claimed that my safety and well-being are his concerns, but not once has a kind word been given to me. Why?"

At last, Corico turned back, brows furrowed over black eyes. The scarlet queen still sat in front of the mirror, and did not look at him directly, the glass creating a barrier between their gazes.

"You are still the sister of our greatest enemy… and as such-"

She cut him off, disdain dripping from the words. "-I may be treated as they please?!"

Shaking his head with a sigh, Corico dared to step closer to her, hover behind her shoulder.

"A king does not do as he wishes, he does that which is good for all. A _good_ king, that is; and my father tries to be just that. We cannot trust you so entirely yet, and that is why you have been treated this way."

"You would claim Deuteronomy to be a just ruler?"

Giving a quick laugh, Corico nodded. "He delivers judgment upon the right, not upon the higher of rank. He rules with an iron will and a gentle hand. His people know what is due them, and his nobles are not mere fluttery pieces of bright fabric - they are intelligent and understanding. A good king requires good people to know that he is a good king, for self-flattery only has an air of ego about it. That is where my brother fails…"

He reached a tentative paw out, placing it upon her shoulder. Bombalurina tensed, but did not move away.

"I shall ask my father to lessen the restrictions he has imposed on you." He smiled, meeting her eyes in the shattered glass in front of them. "Take it as my peace offering."

A grimace crossed her face, and she leant away from the Jellicle Prince, pulling her shoulder from his grasp. "Who said I wanted peace?"

Stunned, Corico tried to form words, stumbling over his own thoughts. "I only meant-"

"It doesn't matter what you meant. It no longer matters where I am- I am to be an outsider regardless! Placated and gagged into submissive silence…" Her husky voice was venomous, and her back was rigid. Only the agitated swishing of her white patched tail gave away her rising temper.

"My brother exiled me for being too soft, since I was unable to stomach the atrocious crimes he committed. Here I am jailed for being too strong, refusing to be a traitor to my family."

The young tom attempted to move in front of her, catch her eyes without the mirror between them. Bombaluirna stared intently at the ground.

"Then tell me-"

"You don't understand."

His patience snapped, and he grabbed at her paws, holding them tightly to his chest. "Then make me understand! I'd do anything you asked me to… please. Let me in. The last thing I would ever do is hurt you."

"Who are you, that you think I would believe such a promise?" She said it disdainfully, though her paws trembled- his heartbeat raced against her palm. He knelt before her, tail brushing her legs. He had only this moment to convince her he truly meant what he said, too caught up in the moment to think his actions through.

Corico leant forward; his voice was a hoarse whisper, "Lady Bombalurina… I shall be whoever you wish me to be."

The deep gold eyes that met his were wide and clear- and for a moment, she did not hide the vulnerability behind those stunning irises.


	9. Waiting- Electra & Pounce

**A/N Slightly different, with some more mature thematic elements (drinking, prostitution, drugs) so I figured I would give a quick warning. Thanks so much!**

The TSE1 was crowded as usual, the Model T tucked in the perfect corner of the Junkyard, where the older cats weren't likely to be. Fumes of catnip lingered even as the skyline began to pale with the sunrise, the clearing slowly filling with the laughter and murmurs of the young toms and queens that had been out all night and still wanted more.

Releasing the last draw of smoke on his breath, Pouncival shouldered back through the door of the club, leaning across the bar with an easy smile.

"Shift's almost over- sure you won't go out with me baby?"

The tortoise shell queen rolled her eyes, "Why should I trade one speakeasy for another? Doesn't sound like a great time on the town to me. What makes you any different than all the other drugstore cowboys?"

He gave a quick laugh as he somersaulted over the counter, landing clean on his feet before her. "Guess I'm stuck on you Electra."

Returning his smile, Electra swept past him, replacing the bottles of moonshine and cream to their shelves.

"I can't Pounce. You know that…" her caramel eyes darted towards the backroom, and then to the small stage nestled in the corner of the TSE1, before a sigh escaped her. "I'll be home late tonight."

His teeth cut into the inside of his mouth; they wanted a better place to live, some kind of security. And the crash had made jobs scarce- no one could afford morality right now. Instead he wound his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I'll wait up…Love you." A quick kiss brushed Electra's forehead, and she shouted the phrase back at him as he sauntered towards the door.

A familiar voice spoke from the end of the bar, a chuckle rasping its way from his throat. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you care about the boy."

Electra grinned, nudging Gus' shoulder, the two of them watching the patched tom laugh and talk with those who lingered at the doorway.

"You could say that." Placing the last bottle of amber liquid on the shelf, the dark queen ducked underneath the stained wood, smoothing down the stray tufts of fur at her wrists.

"Watch the bar for me, will you Gus?"

The old tom nodded, waving her away. "Best run along to get dolled up, sweetheart."

Electra hated the heavy silver collar that was buckled about her neck every night. It felt too much like a chain, binding her irrevocably to the rats' nest of a bar. Not to mention it's less than respectable regulars. The burden was lessened only slightly by the company of the other queens. Bombalurina rushed in, jabbering already to Rumpleteazer, her smirk promising stories about the handsome tom she'd gone home with the night before. Only the appearance of Gus in the doorway lowered their voices.

"Best be heading out their girls…" he mumbled, rheumy eyes cast to the floor. They filed past, fake smiles and laughs at the ready.

"Electra." The tortoiseshell queen paused. "He's already had more than he should've… be careful."

"Thanks for the warning." Her heart beat loudly in her ears, and Electra scampered to the stage with the other queens, too many paws brushing against her body. But the smile was plastered to her mouth with lipstick, and she danced, listening to the sound of the fringed beads clicking on her collar instead of the whistles and screeches from the crowd.

As the whine of trumpets and clarinets died away, the queen's bowed, carefully stepping back to the main floor. Electra swallowed her frustration and moved to the bar, batting kohl lined lashes accompanied by her usual opening.

"So what does a girl have to do to earn a drink?"

A spiral of smoke twined itself over her shoulders, and dragged Electra back to the present moment.

 _His_ voice- molasses coated steel- drawled out, "Cash or check?"

Chills chased themselves up the black and deep orange patches on her spine, as Electra forced her body still. It was a common phrase among the toms that frequented the speakeasy, simply wondering if they would receive a kiss and usually more right then, or later. Silently, the tortoiseshell queen turned, leaning her body against the bar with affected tranquility. Her paw slipped the cigarette of nip from his mouth. At least for a moment she didn't have to answer.

She glanced at the tom in front of her with veiled disgust. Uncombed whiskers framed a grinning mouth, with dark rimmed eyes and dirty fur that was a deep orange, matted with red stripes that Electra desperately hoped were actual markings, and not stains.

Pitching her voice lower, and giving a sympathetic smile, she spoke.

"Sorry Mac, bank's closed." A pale cloud of smoke poured over her lips as she handed back the smoldering paper.

A growl rumbled low in Macavity's broad chest.

"Careful, sweetheart. I like your spunk, but I won't take kindly to disrespect."

Her eyebrows arched, the smile strained. "Disrespect?" She giggled, shaking her head. "A queen can't make the chase too easy, Mac, otherwise the toms lose interest… and then where would she be?"

The ginger cat gave a solemn nod as Electra excused herself, dashing to the back room. She just needed a moment to steady her breathing, shake the tremble from her paws. Shoving her way through the rusted door and caught up in her thoughts, Electra hardly noticed Bomba and Teazer's presence.

He wouldn't let her leave today without some sort of retribution. Electra jumped as the door swung open again, convinced he had followed to drag her out. Instead Tumble's concerned gaze met hers.

"Is everything alright? Gus was wondering why all three of you disappeared at once…" His voice was tinged with apology; Tumble had thrown too many toms away from the queens, when they couldn't behave. Gus had taken the young tom under his wing, and he'd grown close to all of them in their turn.

Electra shook her head quickly, mumbling about heading out right now.

"Wait a minute," the patched tom gently held her in place, "it's okay. Take a breath and tell me what's happened."

By then Bomba and Teazer had wandered over as well, their voices hushed now.

Teazer stood closest to the door, blocking anyone else from entering. "Please, 'Lectra. We can't help if we don't know."

The tortoise shell queen shook her head again but quietly answered.

"I didn't kiss him."

Bombalurina furrowed her brows; "Didn't kiss who? Why should it matter? There's plenty of other queens to kiss."

"I didn't kiss Macavity."

Tumble let out a low whistle. "That takes some serious bravery."

"He's not going to let me leave without making me pay double…"

Bomba snarled at the phrase. "He's not getting a cent. He won't touch you, I promise you that. Tumble, drag Pounce back here to take her home. No arguments. Teaz, you wait with her. I'll head back out and offer Mac some distraction. Understood?"

Bomba didn't wait for an answer, but kissed Teazer's lips lightly and walked out as her mate called after her softly, "Be careful babe."

Tumble gave a quick nod, and dashed for the back alley. "Be back in a flash."

Electra silently followed Teazer out into the alley. Her ears lay flat against her skull, the anxiety rising. "He's not gonna be that easy to placate. You know that."

Rumpleteazer shrugged her narrow shoulders, eyes alert and voice flippant.

"Bombs will do what she has to."

The silence was unnerving, the slightest ruffle of her patched fur causing Electra to flinch away from the door. She didn't want to go back inside, ever again, but she knew Mac wouldn't be satisfied until he got what he wanted. Her. Images of him smashing glasses, and lashing out at Bomba, or Gus, or Tumble, just made Electra's frantic thoughts race faster. She tugged at her collar, leaving indents on her fur.

She finally let out her breath as Tumble rounded the corner again, Pounce just behind him, face grim. His paws were gentle as he drew Electra to him, but his arms locked tightly around her, cocooning her from the rest of the world. His chest was warm; for a moment she heard only the beat of his heart, pounding out a tempo that was impossible to count.

It stopped altogether as Bomba shoved her way into the alley, a paw held to her bleeding lip.

"Better leave quick."

Teazer growled, her curses still flying as Macavity stalked through the door as well. Pounce shifted Electra behind him, with a single word directed at the snarling ginger tom.

"No." It rang with an authority that Electra hadn't heard before, steady and reassuring. She glanced over his shoulder, the tension rising. She stood, paws shaking uncontrollably.

The ginger tom turned with a glimmer in his eyes that wasn't there before. It seemed to Electra that his canines grew into vicious fangs, claws extended, and he gained a thirst for blood.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me."

There wasn't even time to breathe before the monster shot after him, tackling Pounce to the ground. He struggled to rise, and felt his upper body peeled off the stained floor of the alley. He gasped for air, ears ringing.

BANG! He was thrown back down, his skull colliding with the unyielding concrete. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth, and his vision swam. Macavity laughed, tossing aside Teazer and Tumble as they scratched and rushed at him. Electra tried to fight past them, at last breaking free and blocking her mate from further blows.

Without another word or look, Macavity returned to the dark recesses of the TSE1. At last Pouncival raised himself to a sitting position, taking Electra's paw and grinning through the blood at his mouth.

"From now on, we work the same shifts, baby. Yeah?"

 _If only dancing made enough money… It was almost too easy to turn heads in such a packed space, trading kisses for liquor and cash. Pounce had told her once- when they'd first gotten together, who remembers how long ago- that he wouldn't be angry or jealous if she offered more than that. Money was hard to come by, and if she wanted to keep something for herself, it was her choice._

" _I'll love you no matter what, understood?"_

 _It was one thing to talk like that late at night, so far away from the rest of the Yard. Still, the afternoon glare off the TSE-1 when she finally left the dimly lit speakeasy- always seemed to evaporate the idea. Electra had made a point of kissing her mate fiercely, forcing him to look at her with mottled green eyes._

" _That's not gonna happen as long as you stick around."_

"Yeah Pounce. I'll add it to the list of promises I intend to keep."


	10. Can You Keep a Secret?- Tanto & Alonzo

**A/N A bit of age shuffling in this one- but hopefully it makes sense :)**

 _He may still love you. He probably will. He probably thinks about you all the time. But that's not what matters. What matters is what he's going to do about it...You need someone who makes it obvious they want you in their life…_

Tantomile was unaware that the words had become a mantra in her mind, until her brother unceremoniously broke in.

 _I'm assuming you aren't talking about me and Mungojerrie, because despite everyone else's opinion we are perfectly secure in our relationship…_

With the mental equivalent of an eye roll, and trying to hide the panic she felt at almost slipping, Tanto answered her brother with a simple; _Nevermind. It doesn't matter._

 _I know when you're lying, sis. What's wrong?_ Cori stared pointedly at the ceiling of their den, his posture relaxed. If she didn't know better she might have thought that he was indifferent to the entire situation.

 _Nothing's wrong._

It wasn't exactly a lie, but still near enough that she didn't want to deal with her brother's interrogation. She spoke aloud, closing her mind.

"I just need some time to think for myself, ok?"

Cori sat up, his brows furrowed as he attempted to break past the barrier she had created, subtly clawing at the mortar between bricks made of hollow thought. But she had created a steel box, more volatile than the famed Pandora's.

"You know I can keep a secret… and I hate speaking out loud." The hurt was evident in his tone. Sighing, she gave him a quick smile.

"You should practice conversation then. I'm sure Cettie would love to talk, or Tumble and Jem, or Jerrie."

Cori smirked, with a conspiratorial laugh. "I don't know… he and I aren't too keen on talking, you know?"

Her stomach twisted painfully, reminded of why she was shutting him out. "Remember how we promised to leave our love lives out of conversations? Let's not break that." Sighing, Tanto moved towards the fading sunlight outside their den.

"I'm going to go keep him company during his watch… I'll see you later, ok, Cori?"

His eyes still trained on her, the young tom nodded solemnly, a faint whisper working its way through the cracks in her control.

 _Whatever's going on… we'll be alright. Love you._

She waved a paw in a vague farewell, letting her arm fall back to her side. Tantomile had never been outspoken- it was one of the downfalls of possessing telepathic communication. She avoided confrontation as much as possible… there was something so unsettling about raised voices to her; as if someone had turned up the volume of the world, to a deafening level that just left her head spinning.

Afraid of the possibility of an argument, Tantomile crossed her arms over her stomach, brown stripes stark against the white. How long had she been pacing? Minutes? Or an hour? The depression she had created in the dirt by the fence ringing the yard suggested it was closer to the second.

A gentle paw was placed on her shoulder, and Tantomile tensed, spinning around. Asparagus had stepped back, his hands thrown up in a casual surrender as he chuckled.

"I wasn't sure if you were in a trance or something. Didn't know whether to interrupt or not… looked a bit like you were having a nightmare…" The concern was clear in his voice.

"M'alright. Cross my heart." It was muttered, but Asparagus managed to catch the words that were little more than a whisper. He didn't press the subject further, but nodded towards the watch tower constructed of old furniture.

"Guard switched a while ago- he just came from border patrol, so he doesn't know you're here yet."

She gave a quick smile, hoping it reached her eyes. "Thanks, Asp."

The scruffy tom offered a paw, helping Tantomile over the fence before walking back towards the clearing. Heart speeding as the tower shifted beneath her careful steps, Tantomile attempted to slow her breath.

 _Maybe he'll be excited. Do you think that's possible?_

She reached the top of the uneven pile, and though he had his back towards her, she could tell he had heard her. Tantomile's heartbeat slowed when she saw him standing there, cool and confident. He'd always made her feel safer, more stable… _Something Cori has never been able to do, as hard as he tries._

 _I resent that._

 _Go away ok? I need me time, got it?_

His pale ears twitched towards her, and his black tipped tail swished along the ground. She rolled her dark eyes, and walked over, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I didn't mean to distract you, Lonz."

The black patched tom gave a short laugh, wrapping his tail around her legs. "You're always a welcome distraction Mile. Your brother must be driving you crazy."

 _I am not; your tomfriend is the one driving me crazy._

 _If you don't go away, I'd be only too happy to kiss him, with my mind open for you to read._

Cori's voice retreated from her mind. Grinning now, Alonzo tugged at her paw, pulling her close as they balanced on the arm of an old sofa.

It seemed as if the entire word was in front of them here. A quiet field separated the junkyard from the boisterous road, where blinding headlights cast shadows in beams across the grass and rubble. Peaceful… if only her mind would settle. Tantomile curled into Alonzo's side, her head resting against his shoulder.

"So what happened? Everything okay?" His voice was soft, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

"I guess so… I'm just- I just couldn't be around him right now."

 _Because I hate keeping secrets from him._ The statement went unvoiced. _And this is one secret he doesn't need to know yet._

Alonzo tensed slightly, glancing down to look at the psychic queen with concerned blue eyes. "Why not?"

Shaking her head, Tantomile closed her eyes, turning her face into Alonzo's neck.

"Lonz?" His icy eyes scanned the border, tail winding around hers. There was no real threat today; she could sense as much, but he was never one to disregard his responsibilities… something she used to admire about him. But now it made her uneasy; she wanted him to stay of his own free will, not out of obligation.

"Hmm?"

His black paw tilted Tantomile's face up, leaning in to steal a kiss. She drew her knees up, staring hard at the ground in front of them, the blush lingering in her cheeks.

"I needed to tell you-"

"Lonzy!" The enthusiastic cry cut her short, and the couple twisted around to see a tuxedo kitten scrambling towards them. With a chuckle, Alonzo gave the tomkit a tight hug, before allowing him to squirm his way into Tantomile's lap.

She gave a small smile- Quaxo had his own special brand of magic, an ability to share his joy and enthusiasm with others. Tantomile was sure that Alonzo never would have made it past the grief of their parent's deaths without the kitten. They were all the family the other had… at least they had been…

"Sorry for the interruption." Alonzo placed his paw in hers, and Tantomile's heart contracted, catching her breath in her throat. The pressure of Alonzo's paw drew her into the moment again, and he looked back at her with a veiled fear.

"Mile- what's wrong?"

She still wasn't able to form the right words; how do you share news, when you don't know how it'll be received? Giving a good natured sigh, the dark stripped queen slipped her arms around Alonzo's young brother, brushing the dark fur away from his pale face. Quaxo smirked up at her, tugging at her ears and trying to make her laugh.

Opening her mind to the tomkit, Tantomile closed her dark eyes.

 _I have something to tell Lonzo… but I don't know how to say it outside my head._

Quaxo's sweet voice echoed back to her, confused but comforting.

 _Oh. Can I help, Millie?_

She began to hum a lullaby under her breath, thinking.

 _I think you might, Quaxo…_

Tantomile cleared her throat, glancing over at Alonzo through her lashes. "I want to tell you something. But I don't know how…"

"Mile- you know you can tell me anything."

She nodded. "Can Quaxo and I try something?"

The patched tom nodded solemnly, the sunlight starting to fade behind him.

Quaxo leaned over and took his brother's paw, clasping Tantomile's in his other. Breathing deeply the kitten's feelings washed over the two older cats. Through the thread of Quaxo's mind, Tantomile released her own emotions. Hopefully they would be loud enough for Alonzo to hear.

Her heart beat in time with Quaxo's. Alonzo listened to the sound, eyes drifting closed; his own heartbeat slowing to match theirs.

"What am I listening for Mile?"

Holding her breath, Tantomile dismantled the wall in her mind.

Alonzo's brow furrowed, and he counted inside his head. The thump of his pulse was steady, and he heard Quaxo's swift heartbeat, and the slow pounding of Tantomile's heart echoed in his ears.

 _One. Two. Three…Four…five._

The black and white tom's head snapped up, eyes wide. He stared at Tantomile, seemingly frozen. She stared back. Neither spoke.

Quaxo's giggle broke the silence several minutes later. "I get to teach them magic right?!"

Biting her lip, Tantomile untangled herself from the two of them, rising. "I don't know-"

Unable to contain her uncertainty, she gave a short nod goodbye, hoping to make it out of sight before crying. She shouldn't have expected anything else; they weren't even mates. Why should his shock be so painful?

 _Don't cry- you will not make this any worse. Do not cry._

That plan fell to pieces when Alonzo rose, stepping after her and catching her paw. He spun her around, and she buried her face in his chest, letting the tears fall. His breath stirred her fur as he murmured by her ear.

"Why would you run away right now?"

She shook her head, unable to answer.

"If Quaxo is going to teach our kittens magic, I hope you'll teach me how you and Cori speak… That way we'll never be at a loss for words again. I want to know your thoughts, opinions, good or bad, anything and everything you want to say. I want you to know that nothing is going to change anything about who we are together. Ever."

She nodded against his collarbone, giving a watery laugh. Alonzo leant his forehead against hers.

"I suppose we should tell Cori, huh?"

 _That was what you were so worried about? Jeez Tanto…Congrats, sis._

Tantomile smiled, pressing herself closer to the patched tom. "I have a feeling he already knows."


	11. Pristine- Victoria & Munk

**A/N So I clearly enjoy darker shots; hope you guys don't mind! Enjoy! Partially inspired by the beautiful art of Mu-Nin on DeviantArt-** art/Munkustrap-and-Sillabub-155644268. **Warning for mentions of illness and character death.**

A sharp scream jolted Munkustrap awake.

His paws dug into the scraps of fabric, worn and gray, his heartbeat racing until it felt as if he might simply stop breathing. The wind whistled through the trellis and metal outside, and only as Munk heard the same frightening sound did he realize it was nothing more than the fence, far behind the TSE1. Pressing his claws against the bridge of his nose he sighed, trying to calm down. The blood finally settled in his ears, returning his den to unsettling silence.

The silver tabby rose, shifting a mirror here and there, until the moonlight caught the glass, throwing a few pale beams against the walls. The light did little to chase away the imagined monsters, though.

It felt like winter again. The trees ringing the yard were bare, the bark brittle and creaking. He shivered, stepping again towards his bed. The wide panes of glass at the mouth of his den reflected a distorted version of himself; the dark stripes by his face fading into the sky outside, seeming to speckle his cheeks with stars. At least stars were better than snow. He hated the snow: too cold, too pale, and too quick to fade. Munkustrap hoped that he could fall asleep once again- but as the wind continued to howl he resigned his mind to another sleepless night.

The drifts had begun to bank against the entryway. His fur bristled against the wind, shards of ice and snow speckling the black stripes.

 _Because it reminds me of her._ Pale green eyes closed, and the tom could saw her brilliant blue gaze in his mind, reproachful, weary, distant.

 _"Why don't you love me anymore?"_ She whispers in his memories, fading back into the freezing wind.

 _The fog curled towards the fleeing queen, and just behind her followed a ghost of a tom._

 _Distant church bells tolled midnight, and the two could be clearly seen in the silver moonlight, running through the graveyard. They appeared as nothing more than black shadows and on the last stroke both disappeared into the cold night._

 _The dark cemetery was silent and eerie. Moonlight cast long shadows across the old and undisturbed graves. Many of the superstitious inhabitants of the town claimed it was haunted by the spirit of a young girl, and her murdered lover, appearing in this life as a white cat, and her silvery mate. It was said that at midnight you could see the phantom figures strolling through headstones, but on the last chime of the bell they would disappear. Of course, it was only a story._

 _They were practically ghosts themselves. No whisper of sound escaped them, and the surreal terror of the moonlit night didn't seem to affect them whatsoever. Onward the figure rushed, searching. Inky clouds crossed the sky, turning the world pitch black. When the moon once again shone on the churchyard the elusive white cat perched on the edge of a tomb. To the frightened children watching from their windows, she appeared to be waiting for another._

 _Out of the swirling fog now slinking its way farther and farther through the cemetery, came a new apparition. The tom stopped dead as he reached the monument. He didn't want to see her here._

 _Why can't the winter end sooner?_ Munkustrap fights with himself- once the snow has melted, and the cold is swept away by warm spring air, the memories of her will fade too. At least that's his hope, as he claws at the curve of his temples, attempting to scratch away her image in his mind.

 _Victoria's there, dancing with the younger toms as he looks on impatiently. Her games are amusing for now, in the heat of new attraction, but there's only so much jealousy Munkustrap can take. Only once has he held her that close in his arms, and that desire is insatiable, constant, overbearing._

 _A musical chuckle escapes her. Victoria pirouettes in front of the stoic tom, forcing a smile._

 _"You know I only dance for you!" Her voice was flippant, coy. It sent shivers down his spine._

 _An unmistakable growl, deep in the tom's chest, "But you dance_ with _them."_

 _"I see envy has seeped into those stunning green eyes."_

 _"So what if it has?"_

The sound of shattering glass brings him back for a moment to the dreary Junkyard, illuminated in a pale, sickly blue, from the florescent streetlamps overhead, dim after years of neglect. The effect makes his head spin, and the bile rise in his throat.

A soft paw-step echoes behind him. Munkustrap's spine stiffens as the young queen apologizes profusely as she gathers together the shards of a fallen mirror.

"I didn't mean to interrupt…" She doesn't look at him, voice quavering.

 _Such a demure mate_ , he muses, careful to hide his utter disgust at her presence.

"Leave it, Etcetera. Get out." There is no compassion in his tone, and the silver tom barely registers her flinching away from him, penitent and afraid. It isn't her fault… but his rage needs a victim, and Etcetera is too clearly the lesser version of her departed sister. A consolation prize.

The pale green eyes watch as Etcetera's calico tail vanishes within their den. Munkustrap's claws bite into his palm as another memory surfaces.

 _"It's nothing…"_

 _"You're being mated! I wouldn't call that nothing!"_

He thinks back to the stories he had managed to coax from his young mate about her sister. He had listened avidly, and dismissed her immediately after. Munkustrap sighed, mulling over the words that Etcetera claimed Victoria uttered, describing the silver tom and what she had thought of him so long ago.

" _He's the embodiment of a futile struggle for the forgiveness of grave sins…even if they aren't his to atone for."_

It was such a disappointment then, that nothing he had done had eased his penance, or Victoria's suffering.

" _My superiors will murder me if they find me out after curfew," Munk sighed, "or worse leave me for Macavity and his henchcats. I doubt I'd be a welcome guest in the Napolean of Crime's den."_

 _She laughed, voice tinged with anxiety. It is a casual conversation, one that feels strained and formal as they wander back again towards the center of the Junkyard. Wind lashes through the scrap, jingling loose metal and creating a haunting screech that echoed for miles._

 _Her claws brushed against his arm, and the wind nearly carried her voice away._

 _"Please why are you making such a big deal out of this? It doesn't mean anything Munk…"_

He wished he had stayed away after that argument _._

 _But she was impossible to resist and he stole back again as she practiced her dancing, linking his paw with hers for the briefest moment, as her mate and her friends appeared around the corner of the frost-dusted metal._

 _When she had once again regained her balance, she turned on Munk, preparing to ask him what he was doing here and why had frightened her so. But there was no one there at all._

 _Trying to compose herself, Victoria knelt in the rubble, while Jemima, Plato, and Electra made their way over to her._

 _"That was absolutely lovely Vic! For a moment, it seemed as if you almost danced with someone. I've never seen such skill!" Jemima complimented her. How could she not have seen him? Have I gone mad, seeing him, hearing him, everywhere I turn? But she had been sure Munk was there, had saved her from falling…_

" _Vic, are you alright? You look as though you'd seen a ghost!" Plato asked, concerned. How true, Victoria thought wearily._

 _"Yes, thank you, I just suppose I came a little too close to the edge and became frightened."_

He should have left then, ran far away from the Junkyard, past the dim gaslights of London, to the icy moors, or aboard one of the trade ships bound for distant places. Every time he saw Victoria it felt as if his chest would collapse upon itself, his heart pierced and buried by the splinters of shattered ribs. He couldn't breathe or speak to her without wanting to die. Still, his avoidance only infuriated her, driving her to seek him out.

 _"You're back…" She grins, fighting to keep her pain from her mate, who stood next to her, asking Munk how his patrol had been with polite detachment._

 _Victoria interrupted the patched tom at her side, "Are you here to stay this time, Munkustrap?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Is that all you can say?" There are tears in her voice, and she barely notices Plato's presence behind her._

 _"I don't know what else to say."_

 _She asks Plato for a moment alone, a gentle contentment between them. He nods, making an offhand remark about old friendships. As he vanished into their den, the silver tom instinctively reached for her paw, grief resonating in the pit of his stomach as she drew back._

" _I can't. Not anymore"_

 _Munkustrap growled, "Don't do this to me!"_

 _He snatched at her waist, her feet dragging as he pulled her against his chest, black stripes brilliant compared to her wintery coat. Victoria's lips were cold, fused closed as Munk kissed her, desperately searching for a reaction._

" _You shouldn't have done that Munkustrap. You're going to kill me."_

 _Pale green eyes rolled skyward. "No one has ever told me a kiss could kill anyone."_

" _It isn't a joke Munk. I'm sick, and I'm dying, and you aren't making this any easier."_

 _His gaze was furious, and sad, and hurt, dissolving quickly into a cold mask, "You're lying to me. It's just one of your games again Victoria."_

 _A sigh slipped past her pale lips, the heat of her breath creating a misty cloud before her face._

" _I won't be seeing you again Munkustrap." She strolled away with measured steps, the tears collecting, pressing against her eyelashes, threatening to spill endlessly down her cheeks._

Days passed and she did not reappear in the Junkyard. Munkustrap did not utter her name again, a weak attempt to persuade himself that she had simply gone on to live her life with her mate. That illusion shattered when Plato returned, alone, eyes rimmed red.

But it wasn't until she slipped into his dreams again that Munk knew she was gone. Her lithe white frame was the same, though her face was serious and calm, so unlike the joyful exuberance she possessed in life. Victoria smiled, but never spoke. Not even when the silver tom shouted across the void, screamed that he missed her, that he was sorry, that he loved her.

He would wake from those dreams with a crushing hatred of the young queen who had died, and disgusted by Etcetera's concern…

" _What doesn't kill you makes you the villain, Munk…"_

The chill lingered against Munkustrap's spine, dark fur standing on end as the snow fell silently. His knees are pulled tight to his chest, fending off the cold.

It feels like Victoria today, brilliant but brutal. It looks like her too, pale glimmers of white against the silver and black metal of the Junkyard.


	12. Deserving- Cassandra & Admetus

**A/N I suck at making this couple happy but damn it I love them**

"Will you get the Fells away from me?" His face contorted with irritation, muscles tensed into the tire as Cassandra continued to flick her lithe tail against the back of his head. Admetus' tan ears twitched against the unwanted attention and at last he stood, rushing several steps away and breathing deeply.

He couldn't see her, but she flinched away at the movement, realizing she had frayed his patience to breaking. That had been Cassandra's goal of course, but it upset her just the same. She desperately needed him to look at her, notice her again, she needed to feel those hazel irises drifting over her face, relishing the details of the patterns on her face or the sunlight brushing against the dark fur on her cheek. But she would settle for his glares, contempt, anything other than the obvious indifference she had received from him the past few weeks.

"What, Adi doesn't like being touched anymore?" The ice in her voice was transparently thin, on the verge of cracking, but he couldn't hear it. Admetus could only process the high-pitched ringing that accompanied his rage.

 _Anymore._ That one insignificant little word blurred his vision and filled his body with an immeasurable tension that was barely calmed by the thought of attacking the Abyssinian queen. Of course, then the young tom would have to explain to Deuteronomy why he had mauled the Jellicle Leader's eldest daughter… but it was tempting.

"Do it again and you won't leave the clearing with your tail."

Cassandra forced a laugh, eyes glinting darkly. "Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a promise."

A low hiss escaped her, "Ouch."

The fur on the back of his neck stood on end, bristling as white-hot anger crept up his spine.

"What do you mean 'ouch' Cassandra? If I remember correctly, and I damn well should because it still feels like you ripped my heart out only a second ago, _you_ left _me_. So why the fuck are you the one acting hurt here?"

From the corner of her eye Cassandra saw Grizabella appear at the edge of the clearing, keeping her distance, but watching. Thankfully, other than her mother, the Yard remained empty for the time being, no audience gathering at the sound of raised voices.

Uncertainty crept into her tone now.

"You wanted me to leave though Adi."

Her lithe body seemed to shrink back against the tire, black fur blurring into the softened rubber as Cassandra's arched brows furrowed.

Admetus spun back on her with a vicious laugh, rolling his eyes. "Don't blame me for your stupid choices Cass. I asked you to be my mate- what in Fell's name makes you think I wanted you to leave after that kind of question?

He stared hard at her, fighting to keep his body still. He didn't really want to know why she had run away from him like that, left him waiting for her after the ball without an answer, wondering. Because the only possible answer was that she didn't love him after all. But it was too late now to recall the words back to the roiling pit of acid in stomach, so he waited, glaring at Cassandra's ice blue eyes and counting on each little speck of jade and grey scattered within to keep from looking away.

As if he hadn't already memorized that number a long time ago.

A heavy sigh emanated from the Abyssinian queen, as she closed her eyes, breaking his gaze. Momentary relief distracted her as she heard her mother tiptoe out of sight, though she knew Grizabella's hearing was as good as it had ever been. Cassandra's husky voice was soft, and she desperately wished she had the talent of telepathy- to allow Admetus into her thoughts without having to voice them aloud…

"I didn't want to be anyone's mate Adi. That's all."

The tan and white tom shook his head, crouching in front of Cassandra with his tail impatiently swishing against the tire just to the right of her own tail. The dark stripe at the corners of his mouth curled in a rueful smile.

"You can heal your scars on the outside Cass, cover them up, build a defense of biting sarcasm and pretend everything's okay, but I can see you've been hurt. I've known you long enough. You have scars on the inside. You push away anyone who might get to know you deeper- push them away to keep them from hurting you."

"So?"

He growled, "I've put up with your passive aggressive bullshit for a _year_ Cassandra. A year- that's how long I've been wondering what the Fell's happened that made us fall apart. You owe me a real explanation."

Admetus watched her pearl white canines bite into her lower lip before she opened her mouth again to let the words come tumbling out in an uncharacteristic rush.

"I panicked, okay? When my- when Grizabella came back that night, I was so… shaken. All of my life just kept going in circles in my head… how heartbroken my father was when she left, how his pain affected everyone else in the Tribe. I was so angry, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I just wanted to get away from everyone. Including you."

"That's it?" Admetus was breathing hard now, and he rose unsteadily to his feet. "I don't understand… you could have just told me… why didn't you just come home, and-?"

Cassandra leaned forward, her slim body rising gracefully from the tire, her paw held forward in a loose gesture of supplication.

"I wish I knew how to fix it all Adi, take back the mistakes, and lapses of judgment. Then maybe we'd have another chance. What would happen if I only had been this way, or had done that thing?"

She laid a gentle paw against his cheek.

"But it's not always that simple. Bast knows, nothing ever is. I can't change the past, I don't know the future."

A low sigh ruffled the fur by his ear as Admetus resisted the urge to lean into her. Her smoky voice drifted over him, overwhelming, pulling the air from his lungs. "But I know I still love you."

"You don't know me anymore Cass."

"I _do_ know you," she said unperturbed. "You always arrive to the Yard before anyone else and stay out of the way during the Ball, you blink twice when you're lying, and you hate that one curl at the back of your neck that never stays in place, and carefully follow all the rules you've ever been told to. Now I'm asking you to break them. Forget a mating ceremony, and ignore what everyone _else thinks_ and tell me what _you_ _want_."

The pale brown tom sighed, dark brows creased as his claws extended and withdrew, an anxious creature fluttering at his side.

"Please."

He didn't answer.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else I can say. All you have to do is forget about the screw ups and say you love me. If you're not willing to love me without reservations, then I don't want to hear it. I'm doing the best that I can- and that includes loving you, and if you won't forgive me, then I guess it means losing you again too."

And like that she spun and left the clearing, left his life just as quickly as she entered- and this time he didn't know if she was coming back.

A shard of moonlight was all that lit the junkyard when Cassandra wandered home again to the TSE1, slinking quietly past the snoring forms of her siblings… though she suspected that Tugger and Exotica were only graciously _pretending_ to sleep.

Deuteronomy gave his eldest daughter a gentle nod as she paused before him, unable to describe her regret at the way everything had turned out that day. Cassandra had always had an easy understanding with her father, and no words needed to be spoken now as she slowly approached him, winding her claws in graying fur of his shoulders and burying her face against his neck, speaking slowly.

"He was staring at me like I was a new species. I wasn't used to being looked at that way. I wasn't used to being noticed at all. We stared at each other for a minute, brown eyes boring into blue. It was the first, last, and only instance in my life where time stopped for me. My biggest regret and greatest accomplishment are one and the same: that I _couldn't_ stop myself from falling for _him_."

Deuteronomy was considered an old tom even when she was a kitten; but there was nothing more soothing to her than the slight dusty sage smell of her father's fur, and the weary warmth of his voice calming her frayed nerves. Perhaps that's why having her mother back again felt like even more of an intrusion. The sharp, artificial perfume of roses was an unwelcome one now, an insistent reminder of the present realities Cassandra didn't want to face.

"There wasn't anything special about him Papa, he wasn't crazy handsome or talented or brilliant. In fact, he was just as lost as I was. Maybe that's why he meant so much to me, because as long as I knew him, I knew that in some small way, I wasn't alone."

She waited in a contented hush for an answer.

"You deserve the world and more, _qurat aleayn,_ " he murmured, "I'm so proud of you for telling him the truth. I know the day has been long enough… but don't go to sleep with anything else unsaid."

The old tom tilted forward and placed a feather light kiss on Cassandra's forehead before giving an absent-minded wave to usher her away.

Cassandra stalked further into the shadowed interior of the TSE1. A soft a _hem_ stopped her in her tracks, and she sighed heavily, not bothering to turn around.

"I don't want to talk anymore."

The old Glamour Cat gave a quick nod but cleared her throat again, her voice still beautiful after years without much use. "I know. You don't need to say anything Cassandra. I just had something I wanted to say to you… I'm so sorry."

It was such a simple acknowledgement of such a profound pain that Cassandra closed her eyes tightly. The younger queen shuddered, the sounds of crying stifled as she pressed a paw to her mouth, choking the sobs into submission. But the act wasn't convincing an old actress, and Grizabella shook her head, reaching out to Cassandra with a sad tenderness as the young queen spoke again.

"What do you do if someone you love lets you down?"

The question was tinged with such pain, that Grizabella felt her heart cracking. She thought back to her own life for a moment, the toms that adored her, the fame and fortune, the one she loved back, her kittens, her fear, and her fall from grace before being welcomed back, but always being kept at a wary distance.

"Try to stop loving them."

Cassandra gave a watery chuckle, furiously brushing away the tears that wouldn't stop. "Is that possible, mother?"

The Glamour Cat closed her eyes, caught in that memory a second longer.

"No, I don't think so. I've done a lot of bad things in my life, hurt a lot of people. It'll probably take me quite a few lifetimes to make up for it. But loving you, protecting and caring for you and your brother and sister and father, even for this short while? That gives me hope that just maybe I can succeed at anything. Know that I'll always think of you. I waited twenty years for someone like you to come along in my life Cassandra. I love your father, and I love Tugger and Exotica more than words can describe. But you were my first kitten Cassandra- you were the one being that made me question everything in my life, and there'll always be a part of my heart that's just for you. Everyone should be lucky enough to deserve a second chance to be a part of your life… because it is something wonderful."


	13. Past Tense

**A/N Bittersweet shot I think, hopefully still satisfying. Enjoy!**

 _"Come on, one chance."_

 _She rolled her eyes, glancing up at him through thick lashes, trying to keep her gaze on his face, and not wandering elsewhere._

 _"You're not really my type- I'm more of a tall, dark, and serious kinda queen." Demeter's thoughts drifted for a moment to Munkustrap, and his steadiness, his reliability…. Or predictability rather, and stifled the flicker of disappointment at the comparison._

 _"One chance Deme, baby. That's all I'm asking." His voice is low, charming, rehearsed in that way that makes a queen wonder if he means it this one time…_

 _"I'm not one of your simple-minded fan club. It's gonna take a lot more to make me fall, Tugs. Maybe another time."_

 _She flicked her tail beneath his chin, mussing his perfect gold mane before sauntering away. At the edge of the clearing a chorus of giggling met her, as soon as the maned tom had brushed aside the younger queens and was safely out of sight._

" _That was perfect Deme! The ultimate example of playing hard to get." Bomba laughed, Cassandra nodding and chiming in with her silky drawl._

" _If you can catch Tugger's attention and keep it, other tom's will do the same. You can have your pick after that." Rumple and Tantomile nodded in agreement._

 _That's what this is all about after all, Demeter reminded herself. It's about breaking down the barriers she's built, trying desperately to reach out to Munkustrap, and chip away at the walls they have both solidified while Macavity held her captive. Right? So why did it feel like such a game? Something to pass the time, and enjoy the fun of it, instead of the serious opportunity she should see it as? Instead of the panicked, hopeful, deranged effort it is?_

" _I shouldn't be doing this Bombs. I should just deal with Munkustrap the way he is…"_

 _The other queens exhaled- a petulant sound. Rumpleteazer's soft accent rose above them, coaxing Demeter. "Are you really willing to spend the rest of your life with Munkustrap, when ya know he's going to keep shutting ya out? Tall, dark, and handsome is one thing, but he takes the strong and silent trope a bit too seriously, don't ya think?"_

 _Munkustrap watched her with a distant smile as she gave him a quick kiss on the forehead, mumbling absently about a night out with the girls. He nodded, a quiet "Be careful," slipping past dark lips as he retreated into their den and solitude._

 _Demeter dashed past the worn-out fence that marked the edge of the Junkyard and sauntered into the clearing._

 _Bomba and the other queens were already gathered, laughing and chatting animatedly- most cats were still out and about, and the activity was a welcome change for the golden queen, who had spent too many nights inside a quiet den with a mate that at best was overprotective, and at worst was neglectful in his own trauma…_

 _Against her will the thoughts came rushing back. Of course, it wasn't Munk's fault that everything was difficult between them now… he'd done his best… the scars on his body proved that, and few cats fought Macavity and survived. But she wanted him to talk to her, to hold her, to comfort her, to need her… and that wasn't the type of tom Munk was… even before she'd been taken._

 _The black and gold queen shook her head forcefully, vehemently._ I'm sick and tired of being the only queen that's left out; so just this once, I'm going to walk all over the notorious heartbreaker and smile while his hearts bleeds.

 _"Ok," Bomba interrupted her sister's aggressive reverie, "now go and sit in the center of the tire and just watch him, it doesn't have to be interested or jealous or anything. Just stare like he isn't even there. Understood?"_

 _"Perfectly."_

 _Demeter strode into the clearing of the yard, her head held high, before throwing herself into the center of the worn-out tire overlooking the rest of the early evening bustle. The Rum Tum Tugger leant casually against the_ _busted oven a short way off, dancing for the younger queen kittens, soaking in their dreamy looks and vapid giggles as if it were tangible to him. Demeter smirked, closing her eyes. She was familiar enough with the view- what queen her age hadn't already made her study of Tugger? The lean muscle of his abdomen trailing to the defined power of such graceful legs. He'd always appeared to be built for agility rather than strength, but that golden mane hid broad shoulders…_

 _"So what brings you back around sweetheart?" said that voice that sounded like honey._

 _Black eyes raised to hazel as Demeter met his gaze, fighting to keep the satisfied grin from her face._

 _"Nothing but the sunshine, kitten. Why? Hoping for a different reason?"_

 _His amber eyes flashed for a moment- hurt, surprised- but Tugger simply shrugged._

 _"Not at all. Care if I join you?" Without waiting for a reply, he flopped next to her, eyes fixed on the clearing and the diminishing activity. Several of the queen kits shot Demeter a jealous glare as they scattered home in the dimming light._

 _The silence between them has been growing for Everlasting knows how long- it feels like an eternity. At least an hour has passed, Demeter is sure, as the sunlight has faded on the horizon to a pale misty gray, and the rest of the sky is a washed out lavender, quickly darkening to navy in the distance. Still, neither one of them has broken the silence. It has become an unspoken challenge of this peaceful quiet. Who will shatter this calm first? But the longer Demeter revels in the aura of tranquility, the less it remains so. It no longer feels peaceful… it feels intimate between them._

 _This subtle shift registers with Tugger as well, for seconds later he leans closer to her, his voice pitched lower- though there's little risk now of being overheard in the empty clearing._

" _I'll play whatever game you want me to. Just tell me the rules Deme."_

Oh Everlasting, I can see it all crumbling around me, and I know if you says anything else like that, I'll fall apart in tears and just fade back into the shadows, _she thinks desperately, unable to voice anything more than "Don't speak."_

 _Her eyes drifted close, and suddenly the only thing in the world is his mouth on hers, his paws clawing down the length of her body, and the cool evening air against their burning skin._

 _Hours later they parted ways, one last fiery kiss lingering. Tugger's steps led back to the Tribe, the bright smiles and adoring gazes. Demeter's path wandered back to Munkustrap, to normalcy and safety and mediocrity. And the thread between them was drawn farther and farther until it simply wore away from the distance, as if it had never been there at all._

Jemima releases her mother's paw, scampering farther ahead to the cluster of other kittens under the watchful eyes of Jennyanydots and Jellylorum. Her soft giggle brings a smile to Demeter's face, and she crosses her arms, leaning contently against the rusted stove at the edge of the clearing. The sun has drifted high overhead, banishing the shadows from the Yard, and bathing everything in that warm orange glow of a perfect afternoon. Tugger perches next to her, a comfortable silence washing over them.

A moment passed for them, a long time ago now; a fuzzy old photograph in their memories, which had been stuck behind more vivid images, until the day finally came where that ancient remembrance was peeled away from the numerous others. It stood out for a moment, and Demeter could almost see the color brighten inside her head. How odd, that she could still perfectly recall a solitary moment of "it-almost-was" so many years later, on a day so wonderful that she never wanted to change a single thing about her past.

She tells him as much, watching the copper eyes spark as he laughs, nodding. But then she remembers to act like the grown-up queen she is, saying "Still- everything is for the best, don't you think?"

The Rum Tum Tugger's eyes drifted to the small queen kit ahead of them both, the lingering question of that long ago moment suppressed into a dim curiosity and grinned indulgently. Why spoil anything about this moment with answers neither of them really want to know for sure?

"As long as there are afternoons like this."


End file.
